


The Man With No Story

by axelsrose



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Forgotten Realms, Original Work
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Alternate Universe - Dungeons & Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Artwork included in 'chapter' 6, Background Relationships, Based on a DnD Campaign, D&D, Drow, F/F, Found Family, Gen, I'm feel bad for hurting my own characters, M/M, Mysterious backstory, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Fiction, Original Universe, Queer Characters, Slow Build, Tieflings, You dont need to know DND to understand it, amnesiac main character, dnd, interesting world building, original world building, trigger warnings in chapter summaries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axelsrose/pseuds/axelsrose
Summary: When a tiefling wakes on the altar of a fae in the middle of a forest with no memory and a crystal, the family he finds himself with have to help him figure out his story.Will his story be one of happiness or will it reveal hidden enemies that are still looking for him after all this time?This is a completely original story set in the Forgotten Realms universe. (Based somewhat on my own DnD campaign)
Relationships: M/M Backstory relationship, m/f background relationship
Comments: 15
Kudos: 9





	1. Prologue

Waking was like walking through treacle. Slow, and strangely heavy feeling. Limbs that once awake were effortless to move, felt like lead weights inside his bones.

Light warmed his face and despite the sunlight in his eyes, they felt heavy too, so much so he didn’t want to try opening them yet. Instead, the young man lay there, taking in all the other sensations around him. The feeling of the sun warming his face, the cold stone under his back. There was dampness to his skin, the stone below him, the air itself. He could hear birds singing dawn song and the wind gently shaking leaves around him.

Slowly he opened his eyes, staring at the broken arch of stone above him. At the edge of his groggy vision and with the low light of dawn, he could make out the statue of a woman above him. Craning his neck a little more to look at her he could see her properly. Sunlight illuminated her face, her hands outstretched, a stone crown of Ivy and flowers upon her head. Large delicate insect like wings spouted from her back and despite the age the stone had taken on, whatever enchantment had been placed on the wings to make them shimmer still held, allowing the wings to appear like lamp oil on water. Her face was delicately carved and almost as if she wasn’t made of stone at all, but flesh and blood. Despite her beauty however, her expression left him saddened; Her eyes closed and brow drawn into an expression of sorrow and mourning. Almost as if she was mourning the loss of a child or close loved one.

He stared, taking in the beautiful features of her face until a bird, small but brightly coloured landed in her open hand, peering down at the man upon the plinth. It sang bright and clear in the still morning before fluttering off out of the broken roof.

Finally he struggled to sit up, despite his heavy body and looked around the ruined building. Ivy clung to damp stone walls, half of the rotten roof had fallen inwards, missing the stone plinth on which he was lay on by merely a few feet. Sunlight filtered in through broken windows, their glass shattered by age and weather, their once bright colours lost to the elements. Cobwebs clung to dark corners, grass and white flowers grew through long broken and cracked stone flooring. Across from him, just to the side of where the door should have been, stood a tree. Its trunk and branches had broken through stone wall and wooden ceiling alike, the place where a wooden door should have been was now only an empty arch. The door had long rotted away and collapsed.

He couldn’t seem to recall where he was, how he got here or why he had apparently decided sleeping in what appeared to be a ruined shrine had been a good idea but he did know one thing currently;

“This is exactly how you get cursed…”

Climbing down was less graceful then he had expected. As soon as he tried to put weight on his legs, they gave way as if his body had momentarily forgotten how legs worked. Grunting in mild annoyance, he pulled himself up with help from the stone plinth and rubbed his half asleep thighs with one hand, only to nearly fall over as the tail he had apparently forgot existed on his own body curved around in front of him subconsciously. He reached out, taking the arrowhead like spade in his hands and finally took note of everything he hadn't noticed before now. Things that he realised he  _ should _ have noticed before now but apparently had found he forgot he himself was a thing that existed;

His skin was blue. But not like the sky or the pale sea that washed upon the sand, but the blue of deep unfathomable waters or the dark of the sky at night.

He had a tail. It was long and while it tapered towards the end it ended in a diamond arrow head like shape. It could move freely and even pick things up if he was able to grasp them properly.

His head felt heavy. Further groping revealed horns. Large but close to his skull, that curved and twisted outwards as they curved under long ears. Along both horns lay points, two on each, which protruded like semi sharp nubs.

Across his nose and jaw the skin felt tight, like scars sat across those points. Although he couldn’t see them to check if he was right.

He looked down at his clothes, ratty and tattered, large gashes cut through them and after checking, he found corresponding scars across his chest from some beast or sword. And around his neck lay a leather cord with a gently glowing purple crystal.

Some quiet contemplation told him this was… strange. He should know these things. He should know what he looked like, or how he got such horrible scars but no amount of thinking recalled those memories. In fact no amount of trying recalled  _ anything  _ but one thing;

His name was Skul.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

The world outside the ruined shrine was bright and lush. Trees spread around Skul as far as he could see. Flowers and bushes filled in the spaces between the trunks and a soft mist hung in the air and clung to every leaf leaving them shimmering. The bird song was louder out here, not muffled by the stone and plants that had retaken the old long abandoned shrine. He suspected there must be some kind of path to a main road from here and after some looking he managed to find it.

Following the path turned out to be more difficult than he had thought however. The old cobbled pathway had mostly been completely overgrown by the reclaiming vegetation and in some places he lost the path entirely as a tree had found root in its place. With the thick green canopy overhead, he found it difficult to see exactly what time it was other than ‘possibly morning or early afternoon’.

However after hours of walking, he did finally get an idea of the time as the sky started to darken. The path he had been following vanished hours before as the forest had reclaimed the unkept path, any resemblance of a route now long lost to the elements.

As the sun finally set, the forest darkened and quietened dramatically. As the night stole the light from the forest, his eyes adjusted, throwing the dim light into shades of grey as the forest began to thin.

He was tired by now, his throat parched and empty stomach growling. He had tried to gather some berries earlier in the day but had given up when he couldn’t remember entirely if they were poisonous or not. But the thinning of trees gave a glimmer of hope as he found what he had been hoping he was walking in the right direction of; a road.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

The night had fallen finally and the days clouds still hung in the sky, blotting out the little moonlight it had and casting the road in darkness. Two painted caravans drawn by horses were the only thing for miles on this quiet stretch, as most had finished their travels or camped up for the night already. The caravans however carried on, lit by lamp light and leaving the sound of music in their wake.

The halfling woman in the lead carriage squinted into the darkness, the little dappled moonlight catching the edge of something or someone on the edge of the road. While ambushes weren’t common on this stretch, she still had to be wary.

“Zane, Alas. Can either you make out what's on the road ahead? I see somethin’ but my eyes ain't made for the dark like yours and the lamp light ain’t reachin’ it.” She called back into the carriage, still not taking her eyes off whatever it was.

The music that had accompanied them for most of their journey stopped and like cats two heads popped out, one either side of her. One was a woman; beautiful with blond hair pulled into a loose braid that fell into view as she leant through the curtains and the other, a man with a wild mess of blond curls and pointed ears. Both stared into the darkness ahead as the carriage they were in slowed a fraction. The larger carriage following behind also slowed and the same halfling voice called to them followed by a series of clicks and chirps. “Why the stopping?”

“Something on the road Whistler. Hold up.” The human looking woman called back, grabbing a sword from the space under her seat and climbing up beside the halfling.

“Min, slow up and approach slowly-“

“Alas it looks like a person.” Zane interrupted, standing up and leaning half out the carriage.

It rocked gently under the shifting weight and the sound of things sliding rang out. Alas cringed as she heard the sound of a tankard sliding across a table and hitting the raised lip it had. She hopped down as Min slowed the horse down to a light trot. “Will you sit down. Ill check it. It could be a trap.”

Zane slid into the space Alas had just vacated, leaning forwards and squinting. Both the human and elf could see the figure sat at the side of the road along the tree line but at this distance and with so little light it was hard to make out details even for them.

Alas went on ahead, her sword glowing gently as a lamp as Min mumbled an incantation under her breath. Zane glanced at her and cocked his head slightly in question, she rolled her eyes. “Look. Can't be too careful now can we? I'll know if they're good or bad or if anything’s going on. I'm younger then ya, sure. But I ain't dumb.”

Holding the sword ready, the shining blade casting out light around her, Alas slowly drew upon the figure. Scruffy and dozing against a tree stump, the tiefling barely flinched at the presence of the light. He did however wake when she nudged him gently with her foot.

“What are you doing on the edge of the road?” Skul blinked up at her, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the light in his face.

“I was hoping someone could take me to the next village or town- I… I don’t know where I am.”

Taken aback, Alas stepped away slightly, glancing around at the edge of the trees. She couldn’t see anyone else and other then the grubby tiefling on the floor she couldn’t sense anyone else nearby.

Cautiously, she lowered her sword and held a hand out to help him up. “What’s your name?”

Taking her hand, Skul got to his feet, trying to dust himself down as best he could. “Skul. Thanks…”

Alas glanced behind her as the carriages finally caught up, Zane was standing again and the larger carriage behind also stopped, a number of faces peering around the back of the horse to see what the holdup was. Min nodded to her, she couldn’t feel any evil, so it was safe.

“I’m Alastas. This is Minimay and Zane. Welcome to The Glittering Dragons.”

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

After a few more hours of travel later and some food and water, they finally set up camp. Skul sat on the edge of the lead caravan, watching the mix of races set up the small clearing when a drow with piercing red eyes, long white hair tied into a braid and robes of blues and silvers in the patterns of stars made his way over to him. "So, you're the reason we stopped I see." Skul glanced up at him, giving him a somewhat sheepish smile.

"Yeah… Sorry. I'm Skul."

"Orin of No House. Let's go and find firewood. The others will be busy for a while." Orin motioned towards the forest, a glimmer forming around his hand for a moment before he clicked his fingers, mumbling under his breath. A lantern appeared above his other hand, the flame inside the ornate cage flickering a dull blue as he gently pushed it to hover over them. He glanced back at the group and spotted Zane watching them and with one hand, signed something to him. Zane nodded in turn and waved them off, going back to organising supplies from the larger caravan.

"So, Skul. Why were you on the edge of the road? You do realise that someone could have murdered you there, yes?" Skul stared at Orin under the gently blue lantern light and Orin still stared forwards, eyes scanning over the forest floor for any suitable wood to use as they walked. "I… I didn't think about that. I woke up in a shrine and just… walked till I found the road." This time it was Orin's turn to stare. The drow stopped first, staring owlishly at Skul as if he'd just stated he'd been eaten by a dragon. "…You… Woke up in a shrine… and just walked. Why the hell did you go to  _ sleep _ in a shrine?! That is exactly how you get cursed by a fey. Or a demon. Or  _ many things, Skul. _ " 

Skul stopped, turning to look at him. "I didn't exactly  _ choose _ to.. I … actually don't remember. I don't remember anything. Hell I don't even know what I really  _ look _ like."

Orin's eyes only grew wider as it all seemed to click into place. "Ah.. So, you probably  _ were _ cursed. And now you're amnesiac."

They stared at each other for a while before Orin looked away, pulling the small satchel around his hip and digging into it. A few more moments of grunting and fumbling through his bag, he produced a small hand mirror, the back of which had a spider holding onto an indent that would have once held a crystal of some sort, sculpted into it in a cool black metal. He held it up so the mirror was facing Skul, watching Skul's reaction closely.

He… was different then he'd envisioned. His eyes dark and pupil less like a black abyss, light eyelashes rimmed the top of his eyes making them at least stand out a little against his dark skin. He was right about the scars on his face, it crossed his nose and jaw and snaked down his neck to match the one on his chest. His horns were dark, and wisps of long white hair curled over his ears to frame his face. He stared at himself for a long time, his fingers tracing the scars, running through his hair, following the curve of his horns in the mirror. "…If you don't know, you're a tiefling, a demon born. Although I cannot tell you what kind. I think we'll dub you moon born. Instead of being born of Asmodeus. Last time I checked he never really bore bloodlines with your characteristics." Orin spoke gently, now finally realising the very gravity of what he was seeing. While he had thought the story ludicrous at first, seeing Skul look at himself in wonder finally confirmed it for him. He didn't need a truth spell to see that.

"We should probably get some wood and head back before Whistler comes running to find us. She gets anxious if people vanish for too long."

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

Once the fire was set up back at camp and the tents had been set up, Skul and Orin settled down, watching the others busy themselves with things. Orin had shed his coat, leaving the black vest and exposing tattoos up both of his arms. It was like the stars had come down from the sky and settled on his skin. Skul found himself staring in wonder, eyes tracing the constellations and nebulae while Orin watched the camp. After a while he glanced at him, titling his head a fraction before nodding to the party. He pointed out the kenku, her grey and black feathers fluffed up against the cool night air. She was chittering at a brown firbolg with shoulder length messy blond hair with small braids who stood nearly twice her height with dark tanned skin and a mass of tussled dirty blond curls that flowed past his shoulders. Despite the fact she wasn't speaking a language that he could understand, the firbolg seemed to understand completely, nodding wistfully as she chittered. After a few moments of this, Minimay's head, her short wavy hair now pulled into a small ponytail appeared out of the tent behind them, passing a blanket to the kenku and settling down beside the other two.

"That’s Whistler. Nice girl, although she has sticky talons for shiny things. You'll have to teach her your name, kenku's, corvid people, don’t have the ability to speech without mimicking. The cowman is a firbolg. That’s Morander. If you get hurt doing anything, he's your man. Or Minimay. But honestly? I'd prefer to deal with Morander. He's much calmer and less likely to chew your ear off. He also makes a wonderful herbal tea. Although it might not be entirely to your tastes. Minimay's a bit of a tough nut but when you barely come to half the height of most others but can wave around a warhammer, I believe it comes with the territory. She still hasn't forgiven me for nearly hitting Whistler with an ice knife last year. "

He next pointed out the two elves, tanned in skin and both had long braided dark brown hair, who were mostly sat off to the side by themselves. One was reading a book by the firelight while the other seemed to be sewing something. Every now and then the one holding the book would show the other something, who in turn would laugh.

"Those are the twins. Syl and Hap. Syl's the one sewing I'm pretty sure. Never really sure which one is which a lot of the time. They talk in unison pretty often so you'll have to get use to that. It's… a little strange. Also if you wake up one morning and find they've been replaced by either orcs or humans? Don't get too freaked out. They're changlings. They just really prefer wearing the wood elves. I guess it helps them blend in when Zane's a wood elf too. I think they based that look off him honestly. They could almost pass as his siblings or children. You already know Zane by now I'm guessing. Oldest out of all of us. Even me. He's married to Alastas. I'm not one hundred percent convinced she's a human. Last time I checked, fighters couldn't cast light."

Alas was in the process of brushing her hair as Zane sat on the edge of the other caravan, singing a song in a language that was beautiful but he couldn't understand. Every now and then she'd look up at him and even though Zane wasn't paying attention, Skul could almost feel the adoration radiating from her.

"Who's that girl?" Skul asked, pointing past the others to the woman sat well off on her own by the edge of their clearing, with long black hair that brushed the dewy grass. She didn't move for a very long time, sat with her eyes closed and hands folded in her lap. Occasionally she'd shift, looking towards the twins as they laughed or Whistler and Morander as they had a very one sided conversation.

"Ah, that's Novakri. She's a dancer. From what I know, she's been with Zane and Alas since she was around 16? 17? She wasn't doing very well after she lost her family. Kalashtars are pretty hardy and nothing like normal children but from what I've learnt she suffered pretty badly at the hands of slavers." Skul watched her, she seemed comfortable enough although any majorly loud laughter did seem to jolt her out of whatever meditation she was attempting. She spotted him staring and stared back in turn for a long moment.

_ [It is rude to stare.] _

The voice in his head caused him to jolt in shock, looking around wildly before back to Nova. A small smile played on the edges of her lips.

_ [Yes. I am talking to you.] _

"Wait, how are you doing that?" Skul blurted suddenly. Orin looked round, looking at Skul then Nova before laughing. He pulled an amulet from inside his vest, the same dark metal as the hand mirror had been and too in the shape of a spider, holding it up to his lips. 

"Nova don't scare him like that."

_ [I'm telepathic. I don't need to speak out loud to talk to you.] _

The voice echoed in Skul's head for a moment before her attention shifted to Orin. After a moment he grinned at her. Obviously whatever had been said was amusing. Still holding the amulet he looked at Skul, nodding towards Nova. "She enjoys scaring new people. She did the same to me when I first joined."

Quiet fell over them, watching the group mill around for a while longer. Zane had switched songs now, a tune more melancholy then the song he had been singing before and this time in a language Skul could understand.

_ “Bury my heart in a willow tree _

_ The branches give rise to the lowest leaves _

_ Find shelter and shade in my arms,” _

Skul perked up, watching almost transfixed. The music held his attention entirely, and he didn’t notice himself lean forwards to listen to Zane over the hum of conversation.

_ “Once I am gone don't mourn for me _

_ I hope you take pride in what I used to be _

_ Let go of all your pain.” _

Orin watched Skul carefully, glancing between the two and noticing that despite the fact Zane seemed completely invested in his music, he too had noticed Skul’s sudden attention.

“Skul?”

“I know this song.” Skul whispered, as if he was trying not to interrupt.

“This is an old song. Perhaps you heard it long ago.” Orin suggested.

_ “Will you remember me when I'm gone? _

_ Or will you forget all that I've done?” _

Zane wasn’t the only one singing now and it took the others a moment to realise it was Skul singing along. His voice was rough, but almost sweet sounding. Something raw and untrained but holding potential.

The two together worked perfectly, Zane’s magic and Skul’s voice weaving a song that stopped all chatter till it was just them. Then, slowly but surely, Zane stopped singing till it was only Skul’s voice ringing out in their camp occupied by his playing on the lute.

_ “Memories may fade but what we create may stay _

_ Time holds the key of fate _

_ Only time can reveal the gate.” _

Skul finished the song alone, and when he finally opened his eyes, not realising he'd closed them, he found the rest of the group was staring at him. Slowly they all started to clap, and he noticed Zane shoot Alas a look that he couldn’t quite read. “…I…Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was definitely something amazing.” Zane beamed at him as the others went back to their conversations. Orin nudged him gently. “Didn’t know you could sing.”

“I didn’t know either.” Skul muttered, somewhat embarrassed at all the attention suddenly.

“I wonder what else you’ve got hidden in there.”

"Alright I'll take first watch-"

"Min I can do it. You've been heading the caravan all day. Get some rest."

The pair looked over at the sudden commotion. Alas had finally finished brushing her hair out and was talking to Min who despite standing on the edge of the caravan still only just came to Alas's height. "This happens every night." Orin mumbled quietly glancing at Skul. He pulled his own hair over his shoulder, pulling out the string that tied it up. "Every single night. They have the same argument over the fact Min has been at the helm all day so she'll take the first watch. Min can't even see in the dark. From my knowledge, the only ones who can are me, Alas and Zane. And now, you. Don't look so surprised, didn't you wonder why most of the edges of the world seem to be in tones of grey right now?" Skul stared at him, before looking around the camp. He hadn't paid it much mind before now but it did make more sense. Orin got to his feet and stretched, calling over at the two women. "Alas, I'll take second watch. Come and wake me when it's time." Looking down at Skul he motioned at the tent.

"You'll have to share with me it seems. Whistler and Min share a tent. Morander generally sleeps in the caravan. The twins and Nova all share a tent. And I'm pretty sure you don’t want to share a tent with Zane and Alas." He climbed into the tent and after a few moments he threw a blanket back out at the tiefling. Skul managed to detangle it from himself and looked at him with a soft laugh. "Alright. I'll share with you then."

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

The morning came with birdsong, a low fog and the ghost of a breeze. Even in mid-morning light, it was already warm, and with the lack of a proper breeze there was no wind to dispel the heat at all. Skul found himself alone in the tent when he woke to the sounds of the camp in full swing again, staring at the slope of the dark fabric. He rolled to look at the empty space beside him, wondering how long Orin had been awake and what time it actually was. He could hear clattering and Whistler's chattering again and as he crawled out of the tent, he nearly stumbled head first into Nova's legs. "Ah, so you're awake." Skul blinked up at her, quickly trying to get up with a mumbled apology. Nova took a quick step backwards to avoid him knocking one of the bowls out of her hands. "Sorry- am I late- I-"

"Calm down. We just wondered if Orin had murdered you with an ice dagger in your sleep." Nova said her face as blank as ever. Skul stared at her, spluttering as Orin suddenly ran over, a look of mild alarm on his face. “She's joking!”

Skul looked back and forth between them. Orin's look of wild panic and Nova's calm demeanour, two contrasting parallels. “Of course I’m joking. Here. Breakfast.” Nova handed him one of the bowls and gave him a fraction of a smile before scrunching her nose at Orin in amusement and heading back to the place she’d claimed as her own. Orin exhaled heavily, shooting Nova an annoyed look as she walked away. “Her lack of expression makes it perfect for her to pull bullshit like that.” He mumbled, bending down to go into the tent as Skul stood there awkwardly with the bowl before heading over to the fire to sit down.

The twins were the first two to look up, smiling at him and waving in unison. At once both spoke, not a millisecond between them. “Hello. Orin told us a little about you.”

“I’m Syl.” Said the first twin.

“And I’m Hap.” Finished the second.

“I’m Skul. Sorry about holding everyone up yesterday.” He apologised again, giving the twins a sheepish smile. Together and yet mirrored, they both waved a hand dismissively. “You didn’t really slow us down that much.”

As Skul lifted the spoon to his mouth, he spotted Whistler at his elbow, her beady eyes staring at, not him particularly but the crystal around his neck. After a very long few seconds she looked up at him, head tilted to one side. “Pretty shiny. My name is Whistler. I am very sweet.” The voice that escaped her beak seemed to switch between a few different members of the group followed by some soft clicks and whistles. He swallowed his mouth of porridge before glancing down at the crystal then her. “Hello Whistler. It is pretty isn’t it? My name is Skul.”

“Name is Skul.” She echoed back in his own voice, nodding slightly as she added that to her vocabulary.

“Whis, leave him be. His porridge will be cold at this rate.” Morander grumbled, his voice deep but soft. She looked at him, then back at Skul’s necklace before jogging back over to him, chittering excitably. He placed a large hand on top of her head and in an instant she stopped, staring up at him curiously. He handed her a bowl of porridge and let go of her head with a smile.

By the time he finished eating, almost all of the caravan was sat together apart from Alas and Nova, who were both packing and organising the caravans.

“So you woke up in a shrine?” One of the twins asked, tilting their head curiously. Skul could feel the tingle of magic in the air but didn’t resist its effect. None of the others seemed bothered by it. ”Yes. There was the statue of a woman with bug like wings. And she had a crown of flowers?”

“Titania.” Morander said with little hesitation, “Queen of the Seelie Court.”

“She used to be more widely worshipped. Worshipping the fey is less common overall now. A shame, they’re more pleasant to work with.” Zane added, sprawled on his side by the dying fire, a pipe in hand. “If you woke up there, there must have been a reason. Might be worth trying to ask her.”

“Ask her? Is that a thing you can do?” Skul asked.

Min snorted softly, although she was obviously slightly distracted by something. “Of course. Although they may not always answer how you like. Yondalla doesn’t reply as much as give me a feeling.”

“The Spider Queen Lolth usually contacts through her handmaidens. Although she’s more a monstrosity than a goddess.” Orin added, looking visibly slightly ill at the thought, although his eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses. “You don’t want to see what they do to those who displease her. She likes turning people into driders, at least. I've seen that myself. A drider is a half person half spider.” Orin clarified Skul's look of confusion.

“…That’s not encouraging, Orin.” Skul mumbled. He looked away, back towards the direction they'd come from.

“I highly doubt Titania would turn you into a drider.”

One of the twins raised their hand, waiting for the others to stop talking and to look at them before speaking. “Orin said you don’t remember anything. Is that true?”

Skul glanced at Orin, who gave him a shrug. “They were curious. I felt it’d be easier to tell them what you told me so you didn’t have to repeat everything again. Although that seems to have been a pointless exercise.”

Skul shrugged a fraction, looking back to the twins. “Yeah. He’s right. I just remember waking up and my name. I didn’t even know what I looked like till Orin showed me.”

“What are you going to do now?” The twins asked.

“I was thinking, go to the next town and I try to figure out my… deal. Why I woke up there and stuff.”

“…You are thinking about doing that alone?” Morander asked, frowning.

“…Er… yeah. I didn’t expect to really find people so accommodating.” Skul replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

_ “[Nothing. Min says he's not lying, Allie.]” _

Alas looked back to the camp behind them.

In the middle of the gaggle that made up their large mixed up party sat the laughing tiefling they had literally picked up off the side of the road. She looked back to Zane with a sigh, replying in the same elvish Zane had spoken in.

_ “[So he really has no idea where he is or who he is? Just his name.]” _

_ “[Allie we can’t just drop him at Siremistar. He’d be dead in a week. He has no money and the clothes on his back. We could always do with new blood. You saw what happened last night. I’ve not met anything like him in a long time. And I can’t exactly bounce song ideas off of Whistler even if she does try.]” _

Zane motioned towards the group, the dappled kenku with a dark head in question was attempting to make up a song with random words as she strummed her harp, causing the others to blurt out ideas and laughter. Alastas sighed again, shaking her head. She knew he was right, Skul would be easily led astray and she couldn’t let it happen on her conscious.

_ “[Fine. He needs to learn how to fight though. We could do with some more muscle. Let's ask him and the others.]” _

Zane put the pipe back in his mouth, helping Alas off the caravan.

Heading back over, Alas sat down while Zane stay stood, taking a puff of his pipe before taking it from his mouth again. Whistler stopped playing and the others looked at him, anticipating some announcement.

“So we’ve had a talk. Skul, we have an offer for you.” Skul tilted his head curiously as Zane continued, “If the others agree, would you like to stay with us instead? If anyone has any objections now is your time to say.”

“Obviously there are a few terms but nothing extreme like giving up your soul.” Alas added.

Skul stared at him, his jaw hanging open. He’d barely been here a day but they wanted him to join?

As Zane glanced around they all looked more excited than apprehensive, Whistler was nearly chirping in excitement at the thought of a new family member. He’d expected this, they were a family of foundlings after all. “Well Skul? No one's complaining it seems.”

“What are the terms?” Skul asked slowly, looking between Zane and Alas.

“You learn to defend yourself for one. I'll be your teacher.” Alas said.

“And you learn how to be a bard with me. I'm not letting you waste that talent we saw last night. It’d be a crime.” Zane added, now feeling almost as excited as the others looked.

“That’s it?”

“I did say it wasn’t anything extreme.” Alas laughed, “Well?”

The idea of going off on his own when he literally didn’t know where he was or how anything worked honestly had been worrying him. He knew that it was a ridiculous idea but he hadn't wanted to be in the way. This though offered him some place over his head and food to eat.

Stay and have a family with these people who welcomed him with open arms or go off into a world he had no idea about and most likely die tomorrow? There was no contest.

He glanced around at the others, all of them waiting and watching for his choice. He finally looked back up at Zane. “…I hope I don’t let you down.”

Zane laughed, shaking his head. “I’m pretty sure you won't.”

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

The rest of the day was spent in the caravan with Orin and Zane on the way to Siremistar. Alas sat up front with Min and let Zane take control of the process. They'd already set out instruments on the table and even had various on the seats and against the walls, most of which had been pulled from a cabinet no bigger than Min. “So, I want you to pick up any that call to you. Any at all.” Zane explained, sitting cross legged between a large bass and what Orin had explained to be an  _ ‘ajaeng’ _ as they pulled them out.

Skul looked around the array of instruments. Some wind, some percussion, some that Skul couldn’t figure out how it should be played. His gaze fell on the section of string instruments and after a moment he reached out and picked up the vielle and its bow. Zane motioned at him to try it and after a glance at Orin, who mimicked how to hold it, Skul played a few tentative shaky notes.

“Not perfect but we can work on that. Is that the instrument you want to learn?” After a glance around the array, Skul nodded. Zane grinned and got up, starting to hand instruments back to Orin who was still sat by the cabinet. “Next, weapons.”

After another long wait, and a bit of what he suspected to be swearing, they managed to pack everything back away. This time there was less of a wait as Skul grabbed two sabres barely seconds after Orin had told him what they were and put them down. Both elves looked at each other, then at Skul, who was intently checking the swords over. “These.” Skul said, getting up from his seat to hold one out down the length of the caravan, testing the weight in his hand. “Are you sure? We have different-“ Orin started, Skul shook his head as he cut him off.

“I'm sure. These.”

“Both of them?” Zane asked, tilting his head slightly. Skul nodded.

“Yes, both. They feel… right.”

“Allie! You’re going to have your work cut out for you!”

Alas’s head popped through the curtains, giving a small gasp of surprise at the sight of Skul. “Dual?”

“Dual!” Zane cheered, still holding a pistol in his hands as he threw his arms over his head like an excitable child, much to Alas’s horror.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

The sun had just risen by the time they pulled into Siremistar nearly 2 days after Skul had joined them. The village was small, all surrounding a central marketplace that as they pulled into was already bustling with life. Zane was hanging out of the back of the caravan and Skul could hear people calling out greetings, and children laughing as Zane started singing at the top of his voice. Orin shrugged his robes on and donned some sunglasses and retrieved a parasol. Skul tilted his head at him slightly, giving him a questioning look. “Light sensitivity. It's not as bad as it used to be but it can still give me a headache if it’s bright sunshine like today.” He explained.

“So why are we stopping here?”

"This is a common stopping point." He replied, gathering things into his satchel, "We'll be heading up north after maybe popping to the coast. You might get to see the ocean. And maybe snow if the weather turns when we head north." He handed Skul a cloak before stepping around the table to pass Alas her own cloak through the curtain.

When the caravan finally pulled into a clearing near the market, Zane popped back in.

"We'll get going in a moment. Let me just do something." He said, grabbing a bag from under the table before hopping down from the back of the caravan. Skul watched through the gap in the curtain as children of all ages and races flocked to him, all chattering to him in common, and some scattered languages that rang familiar from songs he'd heard Zane sing. Zane greeted them all, handing out small trinkets he'd collected. "Calm down. There's enough to go around. Josefin, I remember you said you wanted new ribbons, I got these from Elgulf. They have some of the prettiest ribbons in the isles." The human looking girl who must of only been around ten, with big green eyes and a mess of dark curls squealed with glee, throwing her arms around Zane’s middle before bolting off to show her mother, pink ribbons clutched in her hand.

The second caravan stopped beside them and the children who were still hovering crowded that caravan now, chattering to Whistler who mimicked back at them excitedly and talking to Morander as he stepped off the caravan. Over the voices, he heard Morander speak, fondness in his voice. “Yes. I will tell you stories soon. Let me get settled first.”

Climbing down himself, Skul stood watching the bustle around him, a little overwhelmed by the sudden attention they were all receiving. He pulled the cloak around himself, his tail seeking out Orin who had exited beside him subconsciously to hold onto the hem of his coat. Orin placed a hand on his arm, giving it a firm squeeze. “Relax. You’ll get used to it.”

“You know the plan.” Alas’s voice called out to the others. The ones not preoccupied called back  _ ‘Yes Alas’ _ and split off in singles or pairs to head off towards shops and side streets.

As Zane finally finished handing things out, a young boy around the age of thirteen, with reddish skin and four small horns stopped as he was about to leave, staring at Skul who had until that moment gone under the radar mostly as the children were distracted. Black eyes locked together and the two tieflings stood staring at each other for a long moment before Skul hesitantly waved at him. In a flash the boys face lit up and he ran off to catch up to friends who were waiting near the edge of the market.

“He’s one of only two tieflings in this town. They're not so common here.” Orin said, watching the boy whisper to his friends and point over his shoulder at the tiefling still stood like a deer in lantern light. “Good kid though. His name’s Hireo if I remember rightly.” Popping his parasol up, he took Skul by the elbow, leading him after Zane who had patiently waited for the exchange to end.

“Where have the others gone?” Skul asked as Orin and Zane lead him down the main street through the market, although he kept a hand on Orin’s sleeve as not to get lost. “To gather supplies, perform and get money.” Zane explained, weaving through stalls of vegetables, fruit and fabrics of dazzling colours and smells. “The twins, Nova and Whistler are performing. Morrie is getting medical supplies. Well after telling the kids some stories. We might need them if you’re training with Alas. Alas and Min are gathering food and water supplies for us and the horses.  _ We _ have things we need to do though. We desperately need to get you new clothes. Those are ruined and no amount of washing is going to remove the stains. Something simple for now. The fancier clothing you can earn.”

“Although I’m sure Syl can embroider anything you want if you ask her nicely enough. She makes their own stuff.” Orin added. “She decorated my cloak.” He turned slightly, an unseen hand, as both his own were occupied, lifting the edge to show the starry details. Skul wanted one like that.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

After a shopping trip that involved more man handling then Skul anticipated, Zane abandoning him and Orin to the mercy of the seamstress and some altering for his tail and horns, he finally had new clothes. His scrappy rags were now replaced with a light blue tunic, black pants and boots and he had to admit he felt more at ease in his own skin now. The clothes he woke up wearing had seen battles that Skul couldn’t recall and he didn’t feel like they really were his but someone else's entirely. These though, were his. He could be sure of that. 

Zane had caught back up by the time they had finished and the sky was starting to turn brilliant shades of pinks and oranges. Even though the sky was clear without a cloud, there was no moon that Skul could see, but faint stars that glimmered as they fought the retreating light.

They made it back to the caravans uneventfully, to find the rest of the group already waiting. The twins, Whistler and Nova passed a share of their performance profits over to Zane while Alas, Min and Morander were busy putting supplies away. Nova was the first to come over to where the wizard and bard-to-be were sat. "New clothes." She said quietly, nodding to Skul. Skul grinned at her, discarding his plain cloak and hopping up to give her a little spin. "Orin helped me with my hair." He commented, motioning to the birds nest that they had managed to tame into a braid. "It looks good. You no longer look like a hobo. You might actually blend in now." Orin snorted back a laugh, and Nova gave them a ghost of a smile as Skul laughed. Whistler ran over, chirping compliments in various languages with Zane close behind her. "I got you something to go with the new ensemble.” Taking his bag off his shoulder, he tossed it to him. "Open it."

Giving him a questioning look, Skul opened it, only to find it was somewhat endless. Sticking his hand in however, he found his fingers wrapped around something made from cloth. Pulling it out, revealed it to be fabric. A soft lilac coloured waistband sash and a striped aqua scarf like sash. Skul glanced at him. "Are these for me?"

"Your outfit was a little too… understated. Needed to bring some more colour into it." Zane replied, waving a hand. Skul passed him the bag back, taking a moment to tie the sashes around his waist. "Much better!" Whistler trilled, fussing over the knot before taking his hand and dragging him towards the tavern.

The tavern was bustling already and the smell of freshly cooked food and way more alcohol then Skul could ever recall smelling hit him like a wall. In a moment his mouth was watering and his stomach growling. Whistler led him to a table while Alas and Zane headed to the bar.

“Is this going to be your first time drinking?” Morander asked, taking a seat beside Whistler opposite Skul. Skul nodded slightly. “I only had water in the caravan.” He explained.

“I hope they have the good wine.” Orin mumbled, placing his parasol and sunglasses into his own black satchel. Despite the fact the parasol was twice the length as the satchel was deep, it vanished into it without issue. Orin caught Skul staring. “Bag of holding. Or a lesser version. We have a few of them between the group. This one is from the Underdark however.” He took it off as he sat down beside Skul, showing him the spider and web details embossed into the stained black hide. “I brought it with me when I joined.”

“Where is the Underdark?”

Orin pointed downwards. “Below. Drow typically don’t live above ground. Although plenty have left for various reasons.”

“Why did you leave?”

Orin blinked, before looking away. His expression shifted to something haunted, then blank as he quickly tried to bury the feelings. “…long story short, things happened. Im not welcome and I don’t wish to return.” He said quietly, rubbing his hands together. Skul realised a little too late that he may have overstepped a boundary as a glance at the others showed them all attempting to get him to drop it. “Oh.”

The table fell into awkward silence that was only saved by the arrival of Zane and Alas with tankards and much more cheerful attitudes. “Wine for Orin. Cider for Morrie and Whis.” Zane said, passing the mugs out.

“Wine for the twins and water for Nova. And just for our newest family member, Dragon’s breath ale.”

Alas slid Skul a tankard although the head of foam disguised the liquid below. Giving a small shrug he drank some while the rest of the table, apart from Orin leant towards him expectedly. It was sweet, almost sickeningly so with a fruity taste he couldn’t place. It took a moment for the heat to kick in, warming his stomach and throat till his insides felt like they were on fire. A moment after he put the tankard down, he belched bright red flames.

His face flushed dark as most of the table burst into laughter, Zane clapping him on the back good-naturedly. “Has a real kick doesn’t it?”

“That was the ale?!”

“They don’t call it Dragon’s Breath for nothing.” Alas laughed.

An evening of food and laughter followed, although Skul did notice Orin was quite for the most of it. By the time it was reaching 11pm, he stood up.

“Im going to bed.” He stated, holding his hand out to Zane. Zane passed him a key, motioning at Skul who was sat with his head lay on the table, not so subtly staring at them. “Take dragon boy with you. I think 4 of them in a row was a bad idea.”

“‘Mmm fine.” Skul grumbled, screwing his eyes closed. If he was honest he did feel like a dragon had maybe just belched into his insides. Orin sighed, looking at the drunk tiefling and then at himself. “….Zane I don’t know if you’ve noticed. He's a nearly foot taller than me.” He motioned wildly at the two of them as if it'd make a point. Morander snorted a laugh and got up, almost effortlessly picking Skul up. “Lead the way. I will carry.”

Leading the way, Orin opened the door to the small shared room. It was no bigger than ten by ten feet, with a bed on either side and a small window between them, but it was enough for them. Stepping in and discarding his cloak, he let Morander gently place Skul on one bed before he waved goodnight and headed back down to the group. Tossing his bag beside the bed, he glanced over at Skul to find him staring at him. “What?” His tone was slightly more annoyed than he intended.

“‘M sorry… I upset you.” He mumbled, eyebrows knitting together as he tried to piece words together over his numb tongue. Orin shook his head, heaving a sigh.

“It's fine. You didn’t know.”

“…Orin? I want tattoos like yours.”

Glancing at him then down at his arms, he snorted gently. “I tattooed myself. It’s painful. I'm sure you don’t.”

“I do… they’re pretty.”

“…Tomorrow I'll get supplies and we can try if you are still insistent.  _ After _ you’ve slept your hangover off.” He crossed over, helping Skul undress somewhat before pulling the blanket over him. Skul made a grumble to complain that he didn't want to sleep, not noticing as Orin grasped the spider pendant. The only thing he really did notice was that the hand on his forehead was cool.

“Sleep.”


	2. The Muse of the Bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Its been one year since Skul awoke from his slumber, and he and Orin make plans to go back to the shrine while they head back through Siremistar with The Glittering Dragons.

**_One Year Later_ **

“Wake up.”

Waking this time wasn’t the same as the first time he had woken after drinking too much. That morning just over a year ago he had crawled out of bed feeling like something the cat dragged in, but this morning he almost bounced out of bed, no hangover in sight. Almost.

Despite not being hungover, he had found that he liked his sleep. What he wasn’t particularly fond of was Orin ripping the curtains open and yanking the blankets off him.

“Orin, five more minutes…” he grumbled, throwing his arm over his eyes in protest.

“Minimay already left to get stuff. We’re literally waiting on you.” Orin rolled his eyes, smacking the tiefling's leg particularly sharply. Hopping back, he narrowly missed the tail, decorated with delicate chains and a cuff, that tried to grab his arm as Skul yelped. ”Get up. We didn’t teach you to be lazy.”

Rolling out of bed, Skul pulled on his shirt, checking the pale shimmering freckles across his arms and the geometric symbols on the back of his hands. “You did a good job you know.”

“I’m surprised you lay still while I literally stabbed you over a thousand times.” He replied, tossing Skul his pants with an unseen hand. They landed unceremoniously on top of the tiefling’s head, making the his silver jewellery jangle softly. “How is your face?” He asked, remaking the bed as he waited. Taking the pants off his head, Skul pulled them on before gently running his fingers over the base of his horns and hairline. Where once was simply blue skin lay a myriad of shimmering pinprick stars, almost like freckles. “Still tender but I’ve had worse.”

Pulling his boots on, Skul checked himself in the small mirror hung up on the wall. He was much different than when he had first been to Siremistar. His face was slightly squarer now, delicate jewellery and bands of silver wrapped around his horns, the once somewhat sharp nubs were now capped with silver and decorated with chains. Most of his back, shoulders and tail now contained shimmering pinprick stars making his body look like a star map of the cosmos. The only large tattoos being the geometric shapes on the backs of his hands and the intricate moon phases chart on his collar bone.

He had taken back his body. Clothes had been the start, but now he felt like he truly did live in it. It was his and not just one he had woken up in.

Downstairs in the tavern was pretty quiet, the only group taking up any of the tables being his mismatched family, or at least half of them. Alas had a pint in her hand, while Nova and the twins, who had seemingly been replaced by humans overnight, had tea. Outside Skul could hear Whistler, telling him she, and most likely Morander, weren’t far, but there was no sign of Zane and Minimay.

Nova barely glanced up from her tea as Skul came jogging down the stairs flanked by Orin.

_[You're late.]_

“Morning to you too Nova.”

_[It’s almost nine.]_

“Now is that nine am or pm?” Skul asked, tapping his chin in feigned thought. He flashed her a pointy grin, although she only gave back a blank look in return. “Okay okay. I know. I’m late. Orin has already chewed my ear off.”

“Eat. _Quickly_. We’ve only got a few hours before were to set off. We’re heading to Odwal and we need to leave sooner rather than later. _Especially_ if you want to stop at the shrine. ” Alas said, pushing a plate of meats and fruits towards him. Orin looked out the window, thinking for a moment as he watched Whistler dancing with one of the children. It was nice this morning, a stark difference to the freak blizzard that had gripped them on the way here. The sun was shining despite the scattered clouds, the snow had started to finally melt now although it was still a little on the chilly side. He had a gut feeling it wouldn’t stay quite so nice though. “We should gather some funds before we set off. Fancy doing some of your fancy juggling?”

He glanced over at Skul, who currently had a mouthful of bacon who nodded in reply, giving him a thumbs up as he tried to swallow. “Gah. Too much- Yeah. As long as you back me up with some effects.”

“[I am not your personal affect wizard.]” Orin grumbled in undercommon. While it was mostly to himself he’d already taught Skul undercommon and both of them knew he’d do it anyway.

“Where’s Zane?” Skul asked, waving at the twins as they both finished their tea and left after a small wave to them.

“He went to get something. It’s a surprise.” She replied, waving a hand at him to carry on eating. “Orin, you haven’t eaten. Sit down and eat something.”

Orin had gone back to staring out the window as he stood at the end of their table. “Im fine Alas. Im not hungry.”

“You should eat something. We wont be stopping at any of the towns on the way. Zane managed to organise a gathering of the other dragons.”

“The Emerald and Frost Dragons?” Skul asked between mouthfuls.

“Yes. Were expected in Odwal in two tendays.”

“Wait. Two tendays? We're going to have to push the horses all night!” Orin exclaimed, looking back to the table finally. Alas sighed holding a hand up to quiet him.

“I know. The blizzard put a delay on things so we’ll have to reduce stops to get there on time.”

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

After Skul had cleaned his plate, Alas almost pushed the pair out the door and Skul headed over to the caravans parked in their usual place. He waved to the children as he hopped into the caravan past Morander, leaving Orin stood waiting.

As soon as Orin was alone, Whistler let go of the little boy she had been dancing with to grab Orin's hand. “Dance!” Orin shook his head, trying to pull his hand away.

“You know I don’t dance.”

“Orin dance while we have a chance!” He stopped resisting, looking crestfallen as if her words had wounded him behind his sunglasses, before giving a slight nod. Taking his nod as acceptance, the Kenku lead him into a little quickstep that despite his reluctance, Skul noticed from the back of the caravan, he seemed perfectly capable of following. Whistler chirped and whistled as she lead Orin through the dance and Orin in turn sang along, adding improvised words to her whistled melody albeit too quietly for Skul to hear clearly.

Hopping down, he strapped the two sabres to his hips, checking himself over. Coin purse tucked into his shirt, the crystal still in the same place around his neck.

As he straightened himself out, a familiar tiefling jogged over to him, looking somewhat out of breath. ”Hireo! What’s wrong? Is everything okay?”

“Yes! I just wanted to catch you before you left. Me and dad are heading out of town and I wanted to give you something in case I don’t see you for a while.” Hireo explained, bent over to catch his breath. Straightening up, he held out a small box crudely wrapped in a scrap of cloth and string. Skul raised an eyebrow, taking it off him, but not yet unwrapping it. “You know you don’t have to right?”

“Yes, but I really wanted to. You’re really cool and I wanna be just like you when I'm older!” Hireo exclaimed, bouncing on his toes. “Dad got me a lute for my birthday and everything! Now open it!” He insisted, pushing the parcel towards him insistently. Skul gave a small shrug, unwrapping it and opening the box. Inside sat a largish cloak pin, made of a silver metal in the shape of a waning moon. He took it out, putting the box on the edge of the caravan and turned the pin over in his hands. It wasn’t light and on the edges of the moon were delicate filigree designs hammered into the metal. “Hireo this is beautiful… are you really sure?” Hireo nodded insistently.

“I know you don’t have that cloak you wanted yet but we thought it'd look good when you did have it!”

“Hireo! Are you ready!?”

Looking up, Skul spotted Hireo's father, another red skinned tiefling with large horns that curled backwards. Skul gave him a wave and looked back to Hireo. “Thank you Hireo. Ill cherish it. I’ll see you again though. So this isn't goodbye forever, yeah?”

Hireo grinned, throwing his arms around Skul's waist and hugged him as hard as he could. Skul returned it, smiling bittersweetly.

“I’ll see you again soon.” Hireo promised, letting go after a long moment and running back to his dad. A small nod at Skul from the elder tiefling and a wave from Hireo and they were gone down an alley.

Scrubbing at the tear that had formed in the corner of his eye, skul clipped the pin to his belt of fabrics, pocketed the scrap of fabric and box and crossed over to where Orin and Whistler were still dancing. Motioning, he took over from Whistler to dance with Orin.

“You finished brooding?” Skul asked, grinning at him. Orin scowled, letting go of him and stepping away. “Im not brooding.”

“Orin-”

“Brooding.” Whistler interrupted, stopping her whistling. Orin scowled at her too.

“Are we going to get some coin or are you going to ask me twenty questions?”

Skul stopped smiling, watching as Orin almost stomped off through an alley to the other side of town. Skul glanced at Whistler who just shrugged at him before he ran off after him into the alley.

“Orin? Did I say something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?” Skul stopped and Orin finally turned on him. The irritation had given way to sadness, an expression Skul only caught on Orin's face when he thought no one was looking. “Its… nothing. It's nothing. It's not important.”

Skul frowned, he wasn’t buying it. “It’s obviously something.”

“Can we please forget it? I just want to get some coin and get on our way. The longer we stall the less we make before we get on the road.” He looked away, the hair that was often in a braid, currently loose, falling into his face. Skul stared at him for a long few moments before sighing softly, dropping the subject. “Yeah. Okay.”

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

Sword juggling, fire eating and other mundane tricks later, they had gathered some coin and headed back to the caravans. Barely a word had passed between them since the alley and the tension was eating at Skul's insides. He couldn’t seem to find a good time to ask him though as as soon as they got back, Min and Zane bundled them into the caravan and they set off onto the road.

Skul sat watching Orin as the drow stared out the back of the caravan. They were both doing a lot of this recently. Orin staring into space and Skul watching him, trying to figure out what was going on inside his head, both of them lost in thought. Beside them, Min and Zane were talking about something or other but Skul wasn’t listening. He was worried, Orin never acted quite so irritable before and the last few days he had been getting more and more short tempered. He was patient, almost to a fault. They both knew that.

“[Are we okay? You’ve barely talked to me after this morning.]” Skul asked quietly in shaky undercommon. Orin perked slightly, coming to attention. He looked at him before back at the book that had been sat in his lap for the past hour, open but the page unread. ”[Yes. You worry too much.]”

“[Only because you’re acting weirder than usual.]” The drow fell quiet and for a moment appeared to be contemplating something before he flicked back a few pages in his book. “Do you want to see a new spell I’ve been working on?” He asked suddenly, cutting off their other conversation with common. Skul frowned slightly before letting it go. “Sure. What is it?” He asked, shifting closer to peer over the top of the book.

“Find familiar. You can pick a form the creature takes but… I kind of want to see what the universe gives me.” He explained, pulling his satchel from under his seat to pull out ingredients and such. Zane glanced over, momentarily pausing his own conversation. “Be careful with that. I don’t want you setting the caravan on fire.”

“I am the embodiment of careful.” Orin countered, pulling a brass bowl from his bag. Skul watched him fill the bowl with various herbs and incense as Orin fell back into his usual mentor mentality, explaining each thing as he put them in the bowl. “Mind holding this for me? Warning however; this may take a while and it’ll be hot.” Orin asked. Skul shrugged, taking the bowl as he settled on the floor in front of him, settling the bowl comfortably in his hands. They had done similar in the past after realising Skul didn’t take the same damage from fire as anyone else.

He got up to open the windows, clipping the back curtain back before settling back down to light the mix of herbs, charcoal and incense in the bowl. The caravan filled with an earthy but sweet smell as the drow focused on the incantation.

After what felt like an entirety to the tiefling holding the hot brazier there was a bang from the bowl and things escalated in quick succession; the horses spooked and nearly threw the carriage throwing things across the small space; Skul dropped the bowl containing the smouldering embers, scattering them; Orin dropped his book and dived for Skul as if to protect him from incoming attack that was never present; Zane threw a bucket of water he’d poured despite Orin’s insistence that he was careful and Minimay screamed.

Both carriages came to a halt, Minimay hiding under her shield as Alas burst into the chaos.

The drow and tiefling lay on the floor, soaked and ash covered, Orin half on top of Skul. Zane stood, looking frazzled and alarmed. The brazier was upside down on the floor and the spell book lay face down in the damp ash. “What the hell happened?!” Alas roared, staring daggers at the pair in a lump on the floor. Orin quickly got up, hair sticking to his face, the ends stained grey. Skul sat up, his own face a mess of wet ash, smeared up into his hair.

“Alas it was my fault- I thought-“ Orin started, stuttering as he tried to rescue the spell book from the mess.

“What the hell did you think? You could have waited till night fall-“

Zane quickly stepped in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders as he spoke in a language they couldn’t understand. Her shoulders slumped a little, looking away with an irritated sigh. Orin desperately tried to dry the page with the edge of his cloak draped over his chair while Skul got up and quickly grabbed a few cloths, trying to dry up the mess.

“Wait, what's that sound?” Minimay suddenly asked. The three, minus Orin, looked at her before following her eyeline to the source of the echoed chattering sounds.  
The bowl.

“Orin. I think it worked.” Skul mumbled, shifting closer to the bowl and nudging Orin with his tail. The drow looked up finally just in time to see him pick the bowl up.

A magpie straightened up, making a chattering call before flying over to land in front of Orin, fluffing itself up and shaking ash off itself.

“Everything okay in there?” A voice suddenly rumbled as Moran stuck his head in to see the chaos inside. “Ah. A new friend?” the cow man smiled, leaning on the edge of the caravan as he watched the new exchange.

Orin didn’t look away, slowly holding his hand out to ground level. The magpie hopped up onto his hand, making a sharp singing note as it did. “….Hey… it actually did. I… Hm, you need a name don't you? I think I'll call you Byrn. Is that okay?” Orin asked, his voice gentle and soft. The magpie tilted it head for a moment before giving a soft call, hopping closer and nudging Orin's other hand as it hovered close to stroke him. Alas heaved a long suffering sigh, pointing at the mess. “Clean this. We still have hours before we can actually set up camp. Zane next time he does this shit, stop him will you instead of adding to the mess.” With that she turned and vanished back to the seat behind the curtain. Zane snorted softly, climbing over the chairs to help the boys clean up, grabbing more cloths and passing one to Orin. He could magic this away, but they wouldn’t learn if he did. “She's stressed. Forgive her.”

“I'll tell the others why we stopped.” Morander added before heading back to the other caravan. Skul could see the others huddled into the doorway of the caravan, all waiting for the news. He looked at Orin and the new magpie. "We should probably clean this up though, Orin. I don't want Alas kicking my ass twice as hard in sparring tonight."

While the three started cleaning up the sodden and ashen mess they had made, Zane and Minimay returned to their conversation while he helped mop up the water.

"Heard from Baker that there's been word of drow near Cragrasp again." Min said, returning to cleaning her shield. Zane frowned, wringing out the cloth into the bucket he had used to drench the boys originally. "Again? Do they know if it’s the same drow as a year back or so?"

"No idea. But they 'pparently attacked Chilgulch. It was only a small party apparently 'n' they vanished 'bout as quickly are they appeared. Weirder yet they didn’t take no one." She looked up, frowning along with him. "You think they might be the same?"

"I encountered some…. Much longer ago then our little family's been together and a few years before the Ashen Lord was felled." He mused quietly. "There's a pass I think, near the base of Mount Maran. Probably not far from Cragrasp actually."

Orin kept his head down, focusing on mopping up water as Skul sat back on his knees and looked at Zane, then Orin. "wait, Orin? Don't you know where it is?"

"There's more than one way out of the Underdark." Orin explained, still keeping his eyes down. "There is a way near the mountain but there's also one in Shri and one near the northern tip of the island. Both places which are not exactly mountains. They could have come from any of those places, and they could be from any city down there.”

“Any other details?” Zane asked, finishing up their mopping and tossing the ashen coloured rag into the bucket. Min sat back for a long moment, trying to recall anything else. “Apparently they had a drider but other than that, nothing else.”

“Probably not the same group then. Although weird they didn’t steal anyone. They usually only come up in groups like that if they're trying to take slaves…”

Orin recoiled into himself a little, returning his focus to the last of the water to mop up. Skul wrung his cloth out into the bucket. He'd heard of drow usually taking slaves from the smaller villages or even attacking groups in the forests and hills without prompting but there hadn't been word of things like that while he'd been awake.

“Things feel like they’re getting worse…” Minimay mumbled, heaving a sigh. “Unrest in Shri, the drow attacking random towns for no reason, the remote isles being over ran by slavers…”

“Somethings going to give.” Orin suddenly added, finally looking up. “All we can hope is that we survive.”

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

“I only roughly know the way to the shrine. Are you sure you want to come? And are you guys sure you want to wait? I know were already behind…” Skul looked between Zane, Alas and Orin, unsure if going all the way back to the shrine was a good idea after all. Alas laughed, apparently in a much better mood after they had sparred the night before. “Skul, you're family. Of course were going to wait.”

“And of course I want to come. Who else is going to save your ass if you get attacked by a bear?” Orin added, also in a much better mood, although Skul couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was the idea of exploring away from the caravans? “Not only that, Byrn can find the shrine and lead us there and back in a fraction of the time.” He motioned to the magpie who was currently in deep chattering conversation with Whistler as she sat sprawled across Morander’s lap. Skul sighed, giving them a thankful smile.

Stretching and climbing to his feet, Zane looked out at the forest. They were just up the road from where they had found Skul over a year ago and not much had changed. The path was still just as well worn, the trees were green as always, the only major difference was the addition of a dusting of melting snow. “We’ll wait here. But do try and be back before nightfall. There could be anything in there.” Zane looked back down to the others. “Go now before the sun gets too high. It looks like it's going to be warm today.” Skul nodded, gathering up the preserved flower crown Morander had helped prepare, the fresh fruit and jar of honey from the market, and his vielle. Orin whistled causing Byrn to suddenly perk up and flutter over. He explained the plan and Byrn flew off, heading straight up for a time before whistling and flying off towards the forest, tiefling and drow close behind.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

The way back to the shrine was much less of a nightmare then it had been getting to the road from Skul's memory, although Orin did keep stopping and looking around as if he'd heard something Skul hadn’t. Within a few hours they found the crumbling building, its roof still partly collapsed in, the stonework moss and ivy covered. Orin cast a spell quietly, the drow's eyes now shimmering with a golden magic and pulled his book out, making notes of plants and the building as Byrn flew down to land on his shoulder. Skul paid him no mind, ducking through the archway and into the shrine, disturbing the wildlife. Birds squawked and scattered, causing both of them to jump and Orin finally got to see the statue Skul had told them about. She was as beautiful as he’d described, if not more so. Tall enough to stand nearly 10 feet tall, with still shimmering stone wings, Orin felt he’d feel intimidated if it wasn’t for her mournful expression.

The spell he’d cast made his vision dance and glimmer as he finally took in the whole building. The statue itself had some kind of unrecognisable magic he’d never seen. The altar too had echoes if the same magic as well as illusionary and oddly, necromancy. As Skul moved, the crystal necklace he always wore caught Orin's attention. It shimmered beyond his shirt, although only Orin could see the necromancy magic shimmering around it.

Skul dropped his bag on the altar, climbing up and taking the flower crown from it. He leant over, carefully placing it upon her head. “I have some things as a thank you.” Skul mumbled, talking to the statue directly. “I read you like honey and fruit so I also have that. And I wanted to play you something. I learnt how to play the vielle from Zane. He's part of my new family. Oh! This is Orin. He's also part of that family. He's a drow but he's not evil like the others I've heard about.” Hopping down, he pulled the vielle and its bow from his bag, taking the fruit and honey out too to place it at the base of the statue before sitting back on the altar with his instrument. “I wrote this for you. I don’t have a name for it yet though. Maybe you could inspire me?”

Orin stopped his sketching as Skul started to play. His ability had come along leaps and bounds from those first few ten days. Headache inducing shrill noise was now replaced with sweet and thoughtful notes as the bard fell into his rhythm. He stared for a long moment, trying to etch this moment into his memory.

As he watched, a glimmer caught his eye as patterns shifted on the altar’s side, almost as if they were dancing with the music filling the decaying shrine and the forest. After a few moments those patterns turned into words, although Orin couldn’t read them despite the script being some kind of elvish. He quickly wrote them down, hoping Zane, Morander or even Nova could decipher it, before the words vanished entirely.

Above them, there was suddenly a sharp cawing of a raven causing Skul to come to a sudden stop and Orin to look up from his book, the words on the altar vanishing back into nonsensical patterns. Byrn bristled as a large raven flew in through the hole in the roof and landed on the statues open hand in front of Skul. It stared at them for a long moment before looking at Skul and cawing again. Through Orin's eyes he shimmered, just as Byrn did.

“That’s someone's familiar.” Orin suddenly said, alarm bells ringing in the back of his head. Skul looked between his friend and the bird, getting up quickly to back away. He stumbled as he tripped on a gnarled root, catching himself on the edge of the altar and dropping his bow. Quickly stooping down to pick it up, the crystal swung from inside his shirt, glowing a dull purple. Orin snapped his book closed, stowing it away and darted over to see Skul cupping the glowing crystal in his hand. As he moved away from the raven, the light dimmed a fraction. ”That’s never done that around Byrn.” Orin said, alarm plain on his face now. Skul stopped moving, staring at the crystal in his palm. The dull lilac crystal had never so much as given them any indication as to be an active enchantment.

The raven crowed again, suddenly flying down to land on the altar, staring intently at the crystal. Byrn chattered, suddenly flying from Orin's shoulder to flap Infront of the much larger bird which cawed a raspy caw and flapped its wings.

“Byrn… says that it’s the familiar of the soul in that crystal. But that’s impossible, familiars vanish after the caster dies?”

“Then obviously they're not dead.” Skul concluded. Orin started at him, mouth agape, an argument on the tip of his tongue as Skul pulled the necklace off carefully, experimentally holding it closer to the raven. Just as before, it glowed brighter, but only as bright as a candle.

“What enchantment does this have?” Skul asked. Orin gave a vague shrug.

“Necromancy. But there’s something else I cant place. It’s the same unknown magic as the altar and statue.”

Skul looked between the crystal and statue then at the raven. “I take it you wont be leaving any time soon?”

A caw in response.

“You must have waited a long time.”

A fluffing of feathers and a throaty grunt in response. Skul looked at Orin. “Can Byrn find out what his name is?”

Byrn landed beside the raven, chattering at it. It made some deep grumbling sounds and Byrn called back to Orin. “Apparently his name is Sebastian but that’s all he can tell us. He just knows he needed to be here and to go with the one who had that crystal.” Orin translated, still eyeing the bird cautiously. The tiefling looked back to the crystal, putting it back on before holding out his free arm for Sebastian to jump onto. “Well. My name is Skul. This is my friend Orin and his familiar Byrn. It's nice to meet you Sebastian.” The raven tilted its head for a moment before climbing onto the offered arm. Orin glanced up through the hole in the roof and canopy. The sky was starting to darken already, the blue turning shades of purple and pink. “We should start heading back. I found something while you were playing and I need one of the others to translate for me.”

Skul looked up at the statue as Sebastian took back to the air with Byrn, he collected up his things. Adorned in flowers, she still was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. In a way, she’d become his muse over the past year. “Thank you my Queen. Ill return in a year hopefully.” Looking back to Orin he nodded. “Okay. Let's go back.”

With the birds ahead and the sky darkening as clouds gathered to warn of an impending storm, Orin mulled over the inscription he’d written down. “It only appeared when you were playing.” He explained, Skul hummed softly in understanding. “It was like they were waiting for someone to play. I think it might be sylvan. That possibly the only elvish I don’t understa-“ both of them stopped dead as they heard the snapping of a branch behind them. Orin glanced at Skul in the low light, who he found, was staring back at him in alarm.

“…That was behind us.” Skul whispered. Orin nodded slightly. He placed his hand on Skul’s arm, mumbling an enchantment. A pale shimmering force spread across his form. “I want you to run.” Orin whispered, already casting another spell. “On the count of three. One…”

Skul glanced up at the birds who had stopped too.

“Two…”

Orin turned, eyes glowing as he pinpointed exactly where the intruders were hiding. Magic outlined their semi invisible forms. Three males and a female form.

His stomach dropped as recognised them.

“Three!”

Skul broke into a sprint the opposite direction as Orin apologised to Titania in advance. Dropping the first spell, the figures already starting to move as the magic highlighting their enchanted forms faded away, he cast a flaming ball of fire towards their last location before turning and sprinting after Skul but not in his direct direction. Above, Byrn dropped below the tree line after Orin, as Sebastian flew in a completely different direction to lure their trackers away.

The forest seemed to explode into flame, the burning sphere taking up a large portion of the tree line behind them. Both the fleeing tiefling and drow heard screams of pain.

“Byrn! Head back to the caravan! Tell Whistler we have company and we need to go! Now!” The magpie flew off like a rocket, darting between trees and out of sight. Orin kept running, hoping Skul was safe.

Skul jumped a fallen branch, trying to block out the sounds and heat behind him. The magical fire was making quick work of the forest, jumping from tree to tree and bush to bush. He needed to get back. He needed to find Orin-

“[Come out little demon born~]”

A voice echoed behind him, undercommon and feminine in nature. The voice was almost sing song and it sent slivers of ice down his spine. He stumbled, nearly crashing to the dirt.

“[Decades I have been looking for you. Your damned mother hid you well little thief!]”

The fear the gripped his mind made him slow, almost freezing to the spot. Slowly he turned to look at the source of the voice. Framed by the burning woods around them, a figure stepped out of the flaming undergrowth. Tall and dark skinned with almost impossibly long silver hair that shimmered in the firelight, her red eyes pierced through his very soul, the fire light dancing in the crimson irises. Her dark robes flowed behind her, and bare feet barely seemed to leave a footprint in the dirt. She reached a hand out, beckoning him towards her with long almost clawed fingers. “[Come here and give me the crystal. I will make your death swift if you do.]”

He stepped forwards a step before shaking his head, trying to clear the fog from his brain. The woman scowled, her face contorting into an ugly snarl. “[BRING ME THE CRYSTAL!]” Her voice seemed to be everywhere at once and the sound of it rattled in his skull. Her hand raised as Skul screwed his eyes shut, forcing himself to step backwards. Above them, thunder suddenly cracked and the heavens opened, rain dousing the raging fire.

“Skul!”

He opened his eyes in alarm and his vision suddenly exploded into stars as three orbs of bright light suddenly appeared between himself and the figure. His arm flew up to shield his eyes as he felt a hand in his, tugging him backwards. He stumbled, turning to follow the figure pulling him away from the blinding light. Behind him he could hear the woman scream as she attempted to block the blinding light from burning eyes.

“Keep going!” Orin called, as Skul struggled to blink the stars from his own eyes.

“What- what happened? Who is that?!”

“Just run!” The drow panted, terror making his voice shake uncharacteristically. His grip on Skul’s hand was making the bards fingers ache. “I-I don’t know!” Behind them the woman screamed in frustration, saying something that Skul couldn’t hear over the pounding in his ears.

An arrow shot over their head and landed in a tree as they bolted past, swiftly followed by another. The third didn’t miss however, hitting Orin in the back of the leg, sending him, and in turn Skul, crashing to the mud. Skul managed to twist just in time to avoid crushing Orin or his bag, landing hard on his ass. “Fuck- Orin?!”

He turned to find Orin snapping the arrow off by the shaft, his hands shaking as he did. In the flash of lightning, Skul managed to make out red mixing with the mud. Scrambling over, he tried to wipe his hands off on his shirt before holding them over the injured leg. “Count of three you pull it-“

“We don’t have time! Just do it!” Orin shot back, yanking the arrow out as shaking hands started to glow faintly. The pain he would have felt if not for the adrenaline in his system faded, he looked up in time to throw his hand up, a shimmering shield blocking the arrow aimed at his head.

As they both got up, holding onto each other for stability, Orin saw the shape of the woman in the distance again. Panic shot through him, his grip on Skul’s arm tightening to a degree that made the bard hiss. Grabbing Orin‘s hand, Skul dragged the wizard away as fast as he could.

As they both bolted off into the overgrowth, Orin lost sight of her.

What felt like an eternity later, exhausted, wet to the bone and with mud clinging to almost every inch of them, they spotted a light ahead moving in their direction.

“Orin?! Skul?!”

Relief washed over both as at first Byrn shot through the trees, followed swiftly by Zane, an orb of light over head and Alas close behind, weapons drawn. Both parties came to as a stop as Zane and Alas stared in horror at the mess in front of them.

“What happened?!” Alas cried, putting her drawn sword away to run over. Both men were muddy and doubled over panting. Their hair turned ombre as their rain soaked hair faded into mud. Orin’s lower left leg was still bloody, as were his hands.

“There was a woman- a drow? She wanted the crystal?” Skul panted, letting Alas fuss over him.

Trying to straighten up sent Orin’s head spinning, the world taking on a solid tilt as he struggled to stand up again. Opening his mouth, he found his tongue suddenly felt too heavy to talk.

“Orin?”

Zane’s voice sounded suddenly far away and as the elf rested his hand on Orin’s back, the drow crumbled back into the mud, the world going dark.


	3. The Bonds That Tie Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Skul and Orin are ambushed in the forest, The Glittering Dragons take a detour while Orin recovers.

Nothingness. 

As far as Orin could see spread absolute nothingness. He was sure his eyes were open but nothing seemed to change when he closed them. It was all just inky blackness that felt heavy and cold all at once, both smothering him and chilling him to the bone.  
"Hello? Skul? Zane? Anyone?" He called into the darkness, but his voice seemed distant and muffled. Frowning to himself when there was no reply, he slowly turned on the spot. As he turned, his eyes locked with a pair of coppery eyes in the distance. He glanced around, before looking back. They eyes were still there, relentlessly unblinking as they stared at each other. The hair on his neck prickled as he blinked, only to find the eyes gone. “WAIT! Hello?!” He called, suddenly panicked as he bolted forwards.  
After a few minutes running, a door came into view. Heavy wood and iron, engraved with symbols and images that radiated from a simple metal nameplate. The name engraved in cursive undercommon sent butterflies through his insides, quickly followed by heavy leaden grief. 

Tebryn

Slowly Orin reached out to try the handle. The smooth metal was almost icy to the touch but as he twisted it he found it wasn’t locked. The door swung open into a large round room, barely lit by mostly burnt out candles in small sconces between towering bookcases of dark wood. Not bright enough to hurt a drow's eyes but enough to bring colour to the grey world.  
Ahead of him, the arched windows behind an elegantly carved stone desk and chair, were open and beyond their lace curtains, the walls of the compound that held the castle like house. Beyond that further, climbed the expanse of the underdark he'd once called home, the magically heated pillar that told them of the time plainly visible.  
Slowly stepping forwards into the room, he took in more details; The large bed to one wall, its silk sheets neatly set; The contents of the bookcases that lined the room full of books and trinkets.  
He knew this room well, he'd spent many good nights here.  
And one very bad one. 

As soon as he had stepped clear of the threshold, the door slammed behind him. He turned on his heel, hair whipping into his face as he stared in confusion. Where the door had been was now nothing more than smooth carved stone wall. He reached out to touch it, finding it was just cold stone under his touch.  
A sound caught his attention and as he turned back to face the desk, a figure now sat in its once empty chair, its hunched form shaking as it cried. The long pale coppery locks of hair cascaded down the figures back told Orin exactly who it was. A deep rooted feeling of dread crept over him as he slowly walked over, his shoes barely making a sound on the stone floor. A trembling hand reaching out to touch Tebryn's shoulder. Inches from him, the figure turned it’s head. Tebryn’s face was exactly as it had been in life; long angular jaw, thin nose and high cheekbones, his eyes not the usual red of most drow but instead beautiful amber. After a moment longer, it’s shining eyes began to multiple like a spiders and its mouth opened, blood pouring from its many fanged maw.  
“YOUR… FAULT…”  
The voice was harsh, crackling like the beings throat had been cut.  
Orin stumbled backwards, tripping over as the monster wearing Tebryn‘s distorted face rose up above him like a great snake. The cold ground felt wet and unpleasantly sticky and as he looked around in panic he realised the stone floor was now under a layer of blood.  
“Im sorry! Tebryn I never meant-“  
He screwed his eyes shut, his voice dying in his throat as he waited for the monster to devour him.

But the moment never came. 

His eyes snapped open and above him hovered not the twisted nightmarish visage of the copper haired drow, but three worried familiar faces; Skul, Morander and Zane. The dark heavy feeling of the blood soaked room was replaced by soft pillows, flickering torches and walls lined with colourful silks that hid the shelves of ingredients and trinkets. All three people sighed in relief as Orin slowly sat up. Skul threw his arms around him in a hug, still partly caked in mud.  
It’d been a dream. Nothing more than a toxin induced nightmare Orin concluded to himself. He sighed, sagging back against the nest of pillows under the weight of both relief and Skul.  
“You’re awake! This is all my fault-“  
“What happened?” Orin asked groggily, hugging the tiefling with one arm as he looked up at Zane and Morander.  
“Poison. You should have died. The adrenaline stopped it from taking hold so fast.” Morander rumbled, his low voice almost shaking the caravan with its bass. Zane puffed on his pipe anxiously, staring at the two in the nest of pillows. "Skul, you can stop, I'm fine." Orin muttered, managing to pry Skul off finally.  
“Who was it?” Zane asked finally. Orin gave him a confused look, trying to figure who he meant before the memory of the drow in the forest came back to him. He signed something with his hands that Skul didn’t understand but the wood elf seemed to.  
Skul looked between them, sitting back on his legs, his tail moving to curl around himself. Orin had never taught him a lot of hand sign, no more than some simple commands for the battlefield when they got ambushed or night time watch so whatever he had said was unclear. What was clear though was the grim look on Zane’s face. ”I’ll inform Alas.” He concluded before excusing himself to slip past the curtain to the front benches of the caravan.  
“Wait. Orin, who was that? The woman? Did you know them?” Skul asked, looking back and forth between Orin and the place Zane had been. Orin shook his head. “No just… telling him what they were. I don’t want to alarm everyone…” he muttered, glancing up towards the front of the caravan. On the other side of the brightly coloured and embroidered curtain was the adapted seating area; large enough to squeeze the twins, Nova and Whistler while Morander was at the helm. Although currently Skul knew, Alas was taking the reins with Whistler and while the Nova and the twins had moved to the head caravan with Minimay.  
Skul shook his head, falling back against the pillows, holding the crystal out above his head to stare at the dull purple object. “…They really wanted the crystal didn’t they?” He mumbled, frowning to himself as he watched how the colours danced as he turned it. Morander busied himself putting things away as Orin looked around at the colourful walls. This caravan had always been bright. “…I just can't figure out why. We- wait. My bag- where is it?!” Orin exclaimed getting up so fast his vision span violently and his legs wobbled. Morander‘s hand appeared on his shoulder, pushing the dark elf back down and dropped the leather satchel into his lap, the worn leather still caked in mud. “You both need baths.” He pointed out.  
Orin looked down at himself, suddenly realising that he did indeed desperately need a bath. His clothes were covered in mud and ash, and his black pants were stained an even darker shade of black from the blood. His poor cloak was almost ruined entirely, the dark fabric smeared with dirt and soot, the silver thread of the embroidery dull and tarnished. Some of the thread was even torn away in places. He groaned softly, running his fingers over the damaged needlework. “Syl’s going to be so mad… she did this for me as an anniversary gift.” He mumbled, taking the cloak off and folding it up. He placed it to one side as he started going through his bag. Skul leant over to run the fabric of the cloak between his fingers, his thumb tracing over the stitched stars. It was a shame. He liked that cloak a lot.  
“Morander, do you happen to know sylvan?” Orin asked hopefully as he pulled his spell book out of his bag. The cleric looked over at him and raised an eyebrow. “Why?”  
“There was something written on the altar at the shrine. I couldn’t translate it myself.” He admitted, slightly annoyed at his own short comings. Of course it was the only form of elvish he failed to know.  
“I know it.” The firbolg confirmed, finally closing a cabinet of herbs and letting the fabric fall back into place over it. “Where I grew up, many spoke the language.”  
Orin's face lit up despite still feeling queasy from his sudden outburst. Holding out the spell book, he pointed to the written inscription beside the sketches of the statue and Skul playing the viola. Morander's gaze lingered on the images for a moment before looking to the sylvan.  
“Siluable usili hes fen il kutaeir  
Vols famaer feler beal ain  
Miril benal fae suli fena kal  
Mirfaes var fae I kuta.”  
Morander finished, looking down at the two in front of him. Both men glanced at each other then back to the cleric. “Err… in common?” Skul asked sheepishly. Morander laughed quietly.  
“Some words are… difficult. Give me a moment.”  
Orin's hands were shaking as Morander gently took the book, excitement building in him that he hadn't felt in a long time. Skul sat up again, crossing his legs and leaning forwards like a child waiting for a story.  
“Time stops for the male having a small death- small death can mean sleep. Death and sleep are almost the same thing. One is just shorter.  
Under the mother queen to see. I think that means shes watching over you. The mother queen would be Titania.” The drawing Orin had done all but confirmed that to him now.  
“To have his life before she houses. His life before…. Your memories are missing. She took those in exchange for her housing you in her shrine. Protecting you.  
The child of life or death.” Morander paused, stroking his beard as he thought it over, “This could mean you are a bringer of joy or calamity. There are not many words that could be used in their place. Sylvan is a… somewhat restricted language.” He handed the book back and Orin scrambled to write all of that down. Skul however looked troubled.  
He looked between the two. Neither seemed at all alarmed by the words but Skul couldn’t shake it. “…So she took my memories to protect me from something.” He mumbled quietly. What would be so dire as to need to protect him? And what did the thing he was hiding from want? Was the thing the woman in the woods?  
He looked down at the crystal barely glowing now around his neck. Since the shine it had been glowing faintly, a softly pulsating beacon of questions. The drow in the woods had wanted the crystal. She'd been looking for him. The question was just how long? It must have been a long time for her to be that desperate. He had so many unanswered questions.  
“Skul? What's wrong?” Orin's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked over at the drow beside him before looking back to the crystal, running his fingers over the cold stone as it glowed gently. “Why does she even want this so much? Why is this so sought after that Titania would take my memories and keep me there? It must be worth something if she saw the need for it too. Is it really holding a soul? You said it had necromancer magic. Can you do a spell to see what it did?”  
Orin looked down at the crystal and sighed, his hand coming to rest in the spine of the spell book. “Other than telling me what enchantment, I couldn’t figure out any other details. The magic must be too complicated for me to understand.” He frowned at his own words. “We'll need to find someone who can but I don’t know anyone. I can't say I particularly hung out with necromancers. They're not particularly… ”  
“Ask Zane if he knows someone.” Morander interjected. ”He has been around as long as I. But he knows more people. He may know a person.”

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

"A person who may be able to tell you about necromancy?" Zane repeated in a hushed tone, raising an eyebrow at the two men.  
It was late, the moon already high in the sky and threatening to disappear behind mountains in the distance. Zane and Alas had made the choice while Orin was unconscious to take a detour from their planned route to put distance between themselves and the shrine. Now massively off track and with two exhausted horses, they'd been forced to rest just off the road before the bridge across the river down from Stabler, nearly 60 miles off course. The majority of the camp had set up their tents and leaving just the two bards and wizard still awake in the entrance to the main caravan.  
Skul nodded, glancing at the crystal still attached to his neck but currently in Sebastian's beak as the corvid rested on his shoulder, playing with the rock. “We need to know what the spell did. Maybe then we can find out why that woman wants it so badly.” He explained, gently prying the rock from the corvids beak. Sebastian squawked at him in annoyance and flew to sit on top of the caravan to join Byrn. Zane fell quiet, puffing slowly on his pipe, deep in thought. Orin slumped a little against the side of the caravan as Zane looked back at them. “There might be someone in Mudwallow that could help. A grave cleric called Interitus.” Skul looked at Orin as Orin tilted his head a fraction. “A grave cleric? Aren't they illegal?” The dark elf asked, eyeing the bard suspiciously.  
“Unlicensed ones, yes. Interitus and his apprentice however are licensed.”  
“Wait.” Skul interjected, now even more confused. He'd never heard of a grave cleric before and he thought all clerics did the same thing as Morander. “What's a grave cleric and why do they need a license? Does Morander need one?” Zane motioned them to follow him away from the caravan and lead them to sit at the fire. The cold was already starting to draw in. "A grave cleric is a cleric who specialises in the dead more than the living. While a necromancer will raise the dead, a grave cleric is the one who can set the dead to rest. They need licenses because while they can banish the dead, they can also raise the dead. So if a cleric goes bad and there's a sudden rise in undead sighted, the Head Clerics in Moonband can locate which cleric has gone bad and remove them." Zane explained, occasionally taking a puff on his pipe, filling the air with its sweet earthy scent that danced and mingled with the smell of the river and campfire. "Morander is a life cleric. They don’t require licences as they have no ability to raise the dead like grave clerics."  
"This doesn't answer how you know a grave cleric, Zane." Orin pointed out as Skul nodded to himself. The bard laughed and shook his head. "I suppose it doesn't, does it? I met him when I was part of the Emerald Dragons. There was an issue with undead over in Ehire."  
"Aren't they the other group we're supposed to be meeting in Odwal?" Skul asked, as he got up to help himself to some cider they had brought. "Oh! Of course, neither of you would've have met them. Last time we met was a year before you joined Skul, and a few months before Orin joined. They’re another travelling band of entertainers, named after their leader Aveos, a dragon touched elf. My sister, Akali, is his right hand man. Myself and Alas were part of the Emerald Dragons before we split off to form The Glittering Dragons.” He explained, accepting a tankard of cider from Skul as he spoke. Orin declined a drink, still feeling woozy as he settled down on his tattered cloak. He cocked his head at Zane in question. “Dragon touched? I didn’t think they existed. At least not anymore. Dragons haven’t been sighted on the isles in centuries from what I heard."  
"Aveos is from The Dire Mountains across the great sea." Zane explained, sipping his cider. "There's dragons in the Dire Mountains at least."  
"Wait, are dragon touched blessed by dragons or half dragons or dragonborn or…" Skul interjected, now even more confused over everything.  
"They're also called dragon blooded or, although don't call them it to their faces, dragon spawn. They're basically half dragons half elves or humans while dragonborn are basically full dragonkin. They're pretty rare, I think something happens with the whole dragon and humanoid thing that isn't compatible usually. You'll get to meet Aveos though obviously. He's probably the only one you might ever meet." Skul nodded slowly as Zane explained, although it was still as clear as mud. "…That's still really confusing."  
"Well I suppose it's like elf subraces. Drow, wood elf, moon elf, sun elf, wildlings. They're all elves at the end of the day. I suppose dragon blooded and dragonborn are similar." Orin mumbled as he fumbled through his bag.  
"Orin, what are drow like?" Skul's question caused him to straighten up too quickly, turning a little green as his head spun. Morrie had warned him not to move too fast. "What?"  
"What are drow like? I mean… other than trying to murder us."  
"As I said to you before, they usually live below in the Underdark in cities of carved stone." Orin replied dismissively as he tried to duck back into his bag.  
"Yeah but I want to know more." Skul insisted. "You know plenty about me and my race. I want to learn more about yours." Orin stared at Skul for a long moment, trying to formulate a response that could get him out of this situation, but his head was still swimming and he couldn't come up with any words. He sighed, resigning himself to finally answering the question Skul had been asking him for a year.  
"I'm not a typical drow, Skul. I… didn't see the same way as them. I didn't hold the same ideals. Drow society is a matriarchal one. Women hold all the power and men hold none. You usually hold even less if you're not strong or good at magic. But even then you're still below even the weakest woman. You could be able to move buildings and you'd still be less than a priestess barely out of infancy." His grip on his bag tightened till his knuckles were almost white. "Some cities are different but most are like that. The city is split into Houses. Each house is its own compound. They're basically castles with walls all surrounding a central pillar that is enchanted to heat and cool with the time of day. Basically every house competes to be a higher rank then the other. They kill and undermine and betray each other every day all for power and Lolth's favour; the spider Queen ‘goddess’ they worship.” He finally found the brush he was looking for, untying his hair and brushing out the knots and debris still stuck in the white locks. He took the opportunity to change the subject slightly. “Long hair is almost sacred to drow. Or at least in my society it was. Being able to grow your hair long and full is a sign of good health and status as well as that you are ‘loyal’. If you’re disowned by your house, or exiled then you must cut it. I left of my own free will so I didn’t.”  
“I don’t think I could ever see you with short hair.” Skul laughed, “I don’t think it would suit you.” Orin smiled gently, giving a small laugh.  
“Good thing I don’t plan on it.” Both looked up as Zane finished his tankard, getting up to put it away. “Orin, head to bed. You need sleep after today. Both of you do in fact.”  
“I'll take watch with you. More eyes are better after today.” Skul insisted. Zane sighed and shook his head, but didn’t argue. He’d come to learn Skul had a good instinct with this. “Alright.”

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

“You were lucky you weren’t killed.”  
“Nova calm down, Im fine.”  
“No. I won't calm down.”  
Skul woke to raised voices over the sound of the camp in full swing, stirring him from a very pleasant dream of lying in a flower field. He groaned, rolling to his feet and ducking out of the tent as he wrestled on his shirt, finally dry after he washed everything after his watch.  
The camp was fully awake by now. Alas and Minimay were sat organising supplies as they talked as usual; Morander was helping Zane cook breakfast; Whistler had somehow climbed onto the roof of the caravan to talk to the corvids and in the direction of the yelling he saw Nova, showing barely more emotion then he'd ever seen her show as she almost yelled in a monotone voice at Orin, who was still attempting to dry his hair after his wash in the river. “Nova, really. I'm fine now. Besides, they were after Skul not me. If they actually wanted me dead I’d be dead.” The dark elf dismissed, still patting his hair dry with a clean rag. Nova smacked him hard in the arm before spinning to see Skul watching them.  
[You scared the hell out of us.]  
The voice rang in Skul's head, familiar at this point. “I'm sorry, Nova. Trust us, we weren’t aiming to scare every-.”  
"Breakfast's ready!" Zane's voice rang out over the camp, cutting Skul's apology off short. 

The camp descended on the two cooks like a pack of hungry dogs, all chattering and sharing the mix of meats and fruits. Once everyone had settled and finished eating, Zane cleared his throat, sprawled besides Alas with his pipe in hand. "After we've been to see the others, we'll be heading to Mudwallow. Skul and Orin want to talk to an old friend of mine about his necklace so we'll make a quick stop there before heading back out on the road. Syl didn’t you have a gift for Skul?”  
Attention turned to the changeling as she quickly got to her feet, hurrying to her tent and returning with a ombre seafoam green sash. Skul vaguely remembered her buying seafoam green fabric a few months ago. “I'm sorry this was late. I planned on giving it to you on your Finding Day but I ran out of silver thread and had to buy more.” She bowed her head in an apology. Skul shook his head with a smile as he climbed to his feet, placing a hand on her shoulder gently. “You never need to apologise. What did you make?” She straightened up, giving him a thankful smile before presenting the sash to him. It was long, long enough to easily come to his knees even if folded in half with delicate filigree and motifs in sparkling silver thread. He stared at it for a long moment, unable to formulate words. “Oh no, you don’t like it-" Syl whispered in growing panic. Skul looked up quickly to her, shaking his head and causing his jewellery to jingle gently. “Syl- it’s beautiful. I love it!” He took the hand sewn garment, slinging it over his shoulder, affixing the moon cloak pin to it and reordering the sashes on his waist to hold the addition in place. Syl reached up, fussing quietly with the placement and smoothing out any kinks in it. “Thank you.” Skul said quietly, his usual bravado quelled. He glanced down to Orin beside him, who smiled up at him with a small nod from behind his sunglasses and parasol.  
Syl turned on him, hands on her hips. “Cloak.”  
Orin shrunk back, tilting the parasol to block her out. “….I have no idea what you're talking about Syl.” Her gaze narrowed as she carefully tilted the parasol out the way, holding her other hand out. “You'll have to wear a different cloak while I fix this mess you made.” She grumbled. He sighed, pulling the folded up garment from his bag and handing it to her. Minimay gave a big bellied laugh, grinning at the two. “Y’could borrow one’ve mine if you want.” She teased. Orin pulled a face at her.  
“No, thank you. Im pretty sure it'd fit Whistler, not me.”  
“Fit Whistler!” Whistler chittered, followed by a chorus of chattering laughter from her, Byrn and Sebastian as they perched on the edge of the caravan roof. Laughter echoed around the fire. “You can borrow one of mine.” Zane offered, “Right now, we should start packing.”  
“We’ve so much time t'make up for.” Min grumbled, getting to her feet. “C’mon Whis. Y’can help me.” Whistler chittered in response, sliding off the roof to join her as she started whistling a loud tune that Skul had taught her a week before, bringing music to the camp as they all slowly got up to start packing away. 

They had a long way to go now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thanks to my boyfriend Jonny for betaing for me. 
> 
> And an uncountable amount of thanks to Willeh and Danny for being so very invested in my little project. I love you guys so much ♥
> 
> I know this chapter is shorter then the others, but chapter 4 is most likely going to make up for it. You'll just have to wait and see ;)


	4. Red Sky In The Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Glittering Dragons are on their way to Galt, Orin's past catches up with him.
> 
> Warnings for triggering content and character death.

They made it to Stabler in record time, although weary and the horses exhausted. Despite their haste, Zane recognised their need to rest and Morander's need to restock his supplies before heading off towards Galt just to the north. Stabler was a good place to stop for now, with its sprawling shopping district and plentiful food and drink.

Crossing the bridge in the centre of the town, Skul, Orin and the twins made their way to the shopping district. The sun was already on the decline, throwing the town into the warm hues of sunset. Orin adjusted his sunglasses a little as Syl huffed and whined softly as they passed the shops and stalls. "I want sweets." 

"We had fruit-" Hap countered only to be cut off by her huffing. She grabbed Skul's arm and he looked down at her confused.

"Fruits aren't _sweets_ Hap. Skul lets go and find sweets!" His face lit up with a grin, looking between her and then Orin and Hap. "Come on. We have earned it I feel?"

"You _did_ nearly die." Syl nodded, grabbing Orin by the arm too. The wizard shifted awkwardly as he tried to retract his arm from her grip. "I don't see how that justifies us getting sugar."

"Exactly!" Hap added loudly. Syl rolled her eyes, letting go of his arm and instead returning her full grasp back to Skul's, leaning on him. "These two are spoiled fruit."

"Well I think we should. There's a bakery in fact!” Skul agreed, leading her off towards the bakery in question, skipping as they did so with a peel of laughter. Orin sighed, rolling his eyes and motioned at Hap to follow them. "I guess we have no choice."

Ducking into the small bakery, the smell of sugar and spice hit them, making them salivate. They'd not had something sweet in a long time, having been stuck on the road nearly nonstop since Bastanla, almost 3 weeks away with the weather they'd had. Syl let go of Skul's arm, bouncing over to the counter. The tanned human woman behind the counter beamed happily, clapping her hands together in a puff of flour. "Oh- I didn't realise they were still floury- Greetings friends! I am Mille! What can I get you?" She asked, quickly wiping her hands on her apron. Orin and Hap shuffled in behind Skul. Hap ducked around the other two to get to his sister, forcing Orin to step round Skul in the small space. 

"I'm Syl! This is Skul, Orin and my brother Hap! What's the sweetest thing you have?!" Syl asked, bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. Mille laughed, a smile lighting up her face. "Well aren't you a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day! Hele just finished a batch of apple fritters actually!" As if on cue, a half orc, who easily towered over all five of them, with long braided black hair ducked out of the back room carrying a tray of apple fritters. She smiled a tusked grin, placing the tray on the counter. "You're lucky you came when you did." She commented, placing four in a paper bag. “The evening rush starts soon n’these sell fast.”

She handed the bag over the counter to Syl as Skul fishes his coin purse out. ”How much?”

“8 copper.” Millie replied. Handing her a silver piece, Skul smiled.

“Keep the change.”

Heading out into the street, Syl shared the fritters out between them. All four savoured the sweet taste, even despite the complaints less than 10 minutes before.

Orin took in the shops as he picked at his dessert. “Do you think there's a bookshop? Or a supply store. I’m running out of ink…” Hap stopped, grabbing Orin’s arm with his free hand, pointing out a store on the other side of the street. It was small and narrow as if it had been squeezed in between the surrounding buildings, with a worn sign hanging outside in the shape of a crow in flight holding a book that read ‘BLACKROOK BOOKS’. Skul and Syl stopped, the latter having already finished her fritter. “Hap didn’t you want a new book?”

“Yes. I'm running out of reading material.” He replied, staring at the store for a few long moments. Orin motioned at him to eat faster, unceremoniously shoving the remaining fritter in his mouth, pulling a handkerchief out of his bag to wipe his hands quickly. “Come on. We might not get a chance again so soon.” Hap quickly finished his dessert, wiping his hands on his coat as they both made their way over. Skul and Syl shrugged at each other, quickly catching up. They had got what they wanted, it wouldn’t hurt to let the others get something too.

Inside the shop was cramped, tall bookcases lined the walls and a thin set of stairs lead to a second floor where even more books crept to the ceiling above. Small tables in the centre held precariously stacked books and odd trinkets and at the back of the store in front of an archway covered by an embroidered curtain sat a desk that acted as a counter with a small bell on it. The entire building smelt oddly nostalgic. For Orin it felt like home, reminiscent of the libraries and studies in cold underground castles where he’d spent the first half of his life. He inhaled deeply as he stepped over the threshold, eyes closing for a moment before Skul nudged him with an amused smile. “You alright there?”

The dark elf gave a start, eyes snapping open. “Yes. Sorry. It just smells… good in here.”

“It smells like old books.” Syl interjected, head appearing under the bard's arm. Hap had already vanished into the sea of books ahead of them, leaving the three at the doorway. Orin stepped in, moving to scan the bookcases with Skul close behind as Syl ventured off to find her brother.

“What are you looking for?” Skul asked, dark eyes scanning the spines of the books.

Orin shrugged slightly in response. “Nothing in particular, just anything that catches my eye.” He scanned a few more shelves before heading to the counter at the back. Not a moment after he tapped the bell, a white crow head popped out of the doorway, peering at him with beady red eyes. “Oh! Customers!” Stepping out of the archway, Orin finally realised what he was; too tall to be a kenku and unlike them, mostly human. The only bird parts in fact were the feathers along his pale forearms, his albino crow head and white wings. The owner was an aven, part human and part bird.

Orin stared for a moment, blinking at the albino aven in shock, who in turn gave a good natured caw of laughter. “I take it you haven’t seen many avens in your life my dark elf friend. And yes, before you mention it, no I'm not black.”

Skul caught up, looking perplexed. “Wait, you're an aven?”

“Indeed! My name is Riko. The store is named after my late father, Briar Blackrook. What can I help with?”

Orin managed to recover enough to remember what he had originally come in for. “Do you happen to sell ink? I'm running low.”

“Regular, enchanted or fine wizards ink?” Riko asked, heading back towards the back room.

“Fine, please. A few if you have more.”

After a few moments he returned with three pots of black ink. “That’ll be… I’ll make it twenty gold.”

Skul stared at him as Orin pulled his coin purse out. “Twenty gold for ink?”

“That’s a bargain.” Orin explained, handing over two platinum pieces. “Being a wizard is expensive.”

“Especially good quality.” Riko added, taking the platinum and placing it in a coin purse around his neck. 

“Oh! You're pretty!”

Orin and Skul turned to see Syl and Hap; the former staring wide eyed at Riko and the latter with an arm full of books. Riko rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "Why, thank you. What do you have, young sir?"

Hap ducked past the others to place the books on the desk. Riko took a few moments to check them over. "I'll let you have these four for two gold." Hap nodded, pulling the gold pieces out and handing them over before placing the books in his bag. Syl looked between them, before looking back towards the door. The setting sun had turned the light to pinks and golds which reflected off every glass surface in the street making everything glow. "…We need to head back. The others will be wondering where we've gone." Orin nodded, looking back to Riko as the others waved and headed for the door. "It was nice to meet you, Riko."

"You too my friends! Do come back if you're ever in need for books or supplies!" The aven cawed giving a small flourishing bow, wings out stretched. As they left the doorway, Orin spotted him accidentally knock a stack of books over with a wing, causing the whole tower to topple and the owner to caw loudly in annoyance.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

Zane groaned, stretching his legs as he unfolded himself from the back of the caravan less than a mile from the road. The moon was rising finally and the stars were out in full force in the crystal clear sky, painting the sky in a flurry of milky white glow and billions of pin prick stars. It was cold, the cool air blowing in from the north giving everything a slightly more bitter chill.

The others huddled around the camp fire as Orin set up a boundary of golden thread around the camp just beyond the caravans and tents. Skul played his voila as Whistler and Nova sang along to the words they knew, the twins sat back to back as Syl fixed Orin's cloak and Hap read one of his new books. Morander was dealing with the horses, making sure they were tied up and given water. Byrn and Sebastian flew in small circles above the camp, chasing night-time insects and bats. Alas and Minimay busied themselves fixing the tents talking about local gossip as they did.

"There. Alarm set." Orin told Zane as he put his things away in his bag. "That should alert me if anything crosses it in the night." Zane gave a nod, lighting his pipe as he lent against the lead caravan. Orin frowned slightly. "You're going through a lot of tobacco."

"I got some more in Stabler." He dismissed taking a draw on it and exhaling the smoke slowly.

“Zane, what's wrong? Somethings bothering you, even I can see it.”

“We may have to stay with the others for a while and you two can't go off any more on your own. It's too dangerous. I'll have to talk to my sister but we may have to go to Mudwallow as the full group.”

“What's brought this on?”

“Other than you nearly dying? I was talking to people at Stabler. There's been drow spotted near Deerhedge. They got word of it yesterday evening. She probably thought we were going to go that way. Still, we can't stop now. After tonight were going to have to push through till Odwal.” He looked at him, a rare look of deadly seriousness on the bard’s face. “You need to tell him. If it's really her then you will have the upper hand.”

He shook his head. “Even if it is, I don’t know why she's here or why she wants him. We have as much of an upper hand as a blind rat.”

“Knowing the enemy is still useful. Tell him. I can give quiet word to the others afterwards but you need to tell him the truth Orin. He already knows somethings wrong, he's not an idiot. We both know this.”

“Zane!! Dance!”

Their conversation was cut short as Whistler ran up to grab the wood elf’s hand. His mood changed instantly, the seriousness disappearing behind a smile. She wouldn’t be able to tell but Orin could still read the worry in his eyes. “Of course, Whis.”

The night wound down after an hour or so, Whistler had climbed into Morander’s caravan with him to sleep, leaving the birds roosting on the roof. Nova had dismissed herself not long after, doing a loop around the camp to check Orin’s magic trip wire before being content enough to go to bed. Syl had made progress on Orin’s cloak although it was more damaged then she thought, leaving to go to bed after giving up for the night. Hap left not long after, waving goodnight to everyone as he ducked into the tent.

Minimay ran a hand through her hair with a yawn as she stood by the fire. “Look, are ya sure y’don’t need me t’stay up?”

“Min, please you can barely keep your eyes open.” Alas laughed, motioning at her. “Go to bed. If we need help then I’ll come and get you.”

Minimay shook her head, stifling another yawn and opening her mouth to argue before giving up. “Fine fine. But if anythin’ weird appears, y’wake me up first. Got it?” After a chorus of _‘of course’_ and _‘go to bed’_ the halfling ducked into her tent. After less than 5 minutes they could hear her snoring.

Skul laughed to himself in amusement, still forever amused by the nightly verbal tug of war. Zane looked at Orin who kept his head down. It was obvious he wasn’t going to do it tonight. Zane shook his head slightly. _Foolish man._

“Tomorrow morning we’ll spar for a while so you don’t get rusty.” Alas was saying as she checked Skul's sabres over. “And next time you get separated; take your damn weapons. Who would have known what would have happened if Orin hadn't found you.”

“I'd probably be dead.” Skul stated matter of factly, tucking the viola into the backpack of holding Alas had forced into his hands as they were leaving Stabler. Alas didn’t look amused. “Don’t say it so flippantly. Orin’s rubbing off on you in a bad way.”

He laughed, smiling at her. “If I let it get to me then I’d be as grumpy as him.”

“I'm not grumpy.” Orin interjected, showing that despite his apparent interest in his book, he had been listening.

“You are a little grumpy.” Skul teased, nudging him gently. Orin finally looked up, shoving him back with a smile.

“And you don’t take things seriously enough.”

“Okay you two. Who's taking first watch?” Alas interrupted, looking between the three as she handed Skul his sabres. He put them in the bag with his other things. Orin put his book away, straightening up. “I'll take first. I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

“I can stay up if you need?” Skul offered but Orin shook his head.

“No, you need more sleep then I do.”

Skul gave up, climbing to his feet and helping Alas to hers. "I need to ask Orin something. I'll join you in a bit." Zane dismissed, motioning at them to leave. Both of them waved goodnight before heading to bed leaving Orin and Zane at the fire.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

Skul woke to yelling. But unlike most mornings, this didn't sound like the camp in relaxed joyful teasing.

This sounded frantic.

Chaotic.

Skul dived for his sabre from his bag as a drow burst into his tent. Only when it spoke he realised it was Orin.

“Get up!”

“What’s-“ Skul was barely able to ask the question when a blood chilling scream erupted from a tent on the other side of the clearing. Both men froze for a moment before bursting into action. Orin threw his bag over his shoulder as Skul's tail grabbed the strap of his.

The camp was in chaos as they emerged out of the tent. Someone who Skul thought could possibly be one of the twins, was lay face down in the dirt, multiple arrows protruding from their back. The tent the twins had been in was torn to shreds, blood soaking the ground. One of the others was on fire. The horses had been cut loose as Morander was physically beating a drow trying to get into the caravan he was defending. Dark figures, a dozen or so, were in the camp. Skul turned in time to see Nova appear from her tent only to be descended upon by a figure from the shadows. Both men screamed as she went down. Skul couldn’t feel his limbs, his legs refused to move. Orin darted forwards, a dagger in hand as he launched himself at the attacker. Sebastian and Byrn dive bombed with him.

There was a flash of light, sending some of the drow scattering like rats, as wings appeared from someone on the other side of the fire. Skul turned in time to see Alas hovering slightly, ethereal white wings extended and a glowing halo framing her head, as she screamed in anguish, decapitating the drow in front of her. Skul ran forwards only to feel a hand on his arm. He span to face his attacker only to find Zane, face bloody and clothes ash covered. “Get Orin and run.”

“What-?“

“I command you to get Orin and to run and not come back!” Zane snarled, tears in his eyes. He grabbed Skul's bag from his tail, forcing it into his arm and pushing him away. Skul stared at him. For a long few seconds he just stood there, staring as his blood ran cold, before his limbs, against his instruction began to move. He twisted from Zane, bolting across the camp with his bag in one hand, sabre in the other. He fumbled with it, throwing the bag onto one shoulder and grabbed Orin by the arm, tearing him away from the body he was crouched over. Orin made to protest but one look back at Zane silenced him.

Zane had turned away, diving in to help protect his family. Alas went down beside him, the wings and halo turning to star dust as she collapsed and a fury Orin had never seen before came over the wood elf’s features.

He turned away, running with Skul through the camp. They passed Minimay who was desperately trying to fend off three drow by herself. Orin moved to help but Skul pulled him away. He wanted to help too, but Zane's words echoed in his head like a bell forcing his limbs into action. They heard her scream as they ducked into the trees.

There was a sharp whistle and the sounds of fighting were lost as the sounds of their hearts hammering in their ears deafened them. Around them as they ran the shadows seemed to come alive, following the two as they weaved between trees. Shouts rang out in undercommon, the excitement was palpable. Above them two birds flew above the trees twisting and narrowly avoiding arrows fired their way.

Skul slowed a fraction as he ducked through the twisting branches, the cold turning suddenly bitter and almost icy as a frost fell upon them. Orin suddenly dug his heels in with a yell in pain forcing them to stop. Skul span round as Orin's dagger clattered to the ground. "Ori-!"

"[It _is_ you little brother.]"

He let go of Orin's arm recoiling. Holding his best friend by the hair was the woman. Her expression twisted in fury that set his bones to ice. A dagger, twisted and wicked looking was held to Orin's throat. The forest stilled, waiting like a coiled snake ready to strike.

"Skul run-!" Orin cried, trying to kick Skul away from them as his fingers tore at her wrist. Beads of blood dripped down the blade, catching the moonlight.

Skul didn't move, frozen to the spot. The sabre in his hand shook.

"[You little traitorous viper! You don't deserve this beauty!]" She yanked Orin upwards, his hands slipping from her wrist as she moved the knife to instead cut the braid.

Now finally free, Orin lurched forwards into Skul, knocking him from his fear induced paralysis.

He twisted, pushing Orin behind him and held his sabre between them. Facing her with new found defiance in his eyes.

She stared at the braid in her hand, wisps of silky white hair fluttering to join the leaf litter. Finally she turned her gaze upon him, almost as if she'd forgotten he was there.

"[You-]"

"Lady I can't understand a word you're saying." Skul interrupted, despite the fact he could understand perfectly fine. She snarled in irritation drifting forwards slightly as she extended the blade out, frost clinging to the edge, crystallising the blood smeared there. He edged himself and Orin away from her, arm out to herd Orin backwards.

"You will give-"

"I won't give you shit."

She blinked, visibly taken aback by his outburst. It took her a moment to regain her composure. "Your death will be swift for both thief and traitor."

Time stilled for a moment. Skul went to close the distance but Orin's hand grabbed his, keeping him still. She lunged forwards, a glittering shield blocking her attack and the sudden barrage of arrows. Orin spun Skul to face him, looking past the bard to his sister.

Crimson eyes locked through the glittering gold.

"[Fuck you and Lolth.]"

He held up a glass vial of shimmering iridescent emerald dust, crushing it in his hand and letting the blood mix with the powder.

Orin smiled at her.

She screamed in fury.

And then they were gone.

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

Both men stumbled as they appeared on the other end of the spell. The woods had been replaced with a meadow hill between tree lines. It was bathed in moonlight and peaceful, a far cry from the chaos they had left.

Orin let go of Skul, staggering to sit down on the grass of the clearing. Skul doubled over, his sabre dropping beside him as he tried not to vomit.

After a moment he sat down, his head in his hands as Orin stared blankly down the hill they were on.

Moments stretched to minutes before either spoke.

"What the hell was that?" Skul mumbled, finally lifting his head to look at the wizard. He hadn't moved but the wound on his neck had slowed it's bleeding, his bloody hand cradled in his lap. "Orin!"

He blinked suddenly, looking at Skul before away. "Zane gave it me. In case we got into trouble again. A teleport spell in powdered form basically… made from crushed dragon scale-"

"I didn't mean that!" Anger flared as Skul looked at the man beside him. "Her! Brother?! She's your sister-?!"

"Don't scream. I'm sat right here. The spell wasn't… perfect. But I think we're near Swanpass…"

"You're not answering my question, Orin!" Skul jumped to his feet, snatching his sabre up to put it back in his bag. "You never answer my questions! What the fuck is going on?!"

Orin looked down, carefully picking glass from his palm. The roughly cut white locks fell into his face obscuring his expression.

"…Okay. I'll… tell you please just.. Sit down? We'll have to rest here… Sebastian and Bryn didn't come with us so they'll have to catch up. It could take a few hours." he said, his voice quiet and tired.

Skul shook his head, pacing back and forth. "You've been avoiding something since the shrine. You _knew_ it was her didn't you?"

"…Yes. I knew it was her."

"Then why didn't you tell me!? Do you know _why_ she's trying to kill me?!"

"Because if I did then you'd suspect I knew something! Like you're doing now! I don't know why she wants you or that crystal! I haven't seen her in over 130 years!" Orin finally looked up at him. He was hurt Skul suspected him, but he wasn't surprised. "Please sit down."

"Not until you actually tell me what's going on. Why did she call you a traitor? _You_ said you left of your own accord!"

Orin looked back at his hand, tossing the last bit of glass down the hill. "Please sit down." he repeated. "I'll tell you everything."

There were a long few painful seconds as Skul glared at him before finally obeying, sitting down with a thud and sighing. He took Orin's hand, gently mumbling the words Zane had taught him under his breath. The wounds in his palm slowly knitting together as the magic worked it's wonders. Orin gently removed his hand, replacing it back in his lap. "This is a very long story, you know."

"…It's not like we've got much else to do, Orin." The drow nodded gently, taking a dep breath as is to ready himself.

“I wasn’t born with the name Orin. Orin is a name I picked. My birth name was Vornin Mel’ett of House Mel’ett. I am technically thirdboy. But my eldest brother Istolil killed the brother between us, Maso’vir, before I was born. Something about him being a better fighter. I was less of a threat since I became a wizard. I had a younger brother, Kenel. I have two elder sisters, Zilvra and Mizre, and a younger sister, Rilrae.”

“Which was the one we just met?”

“That would be Zilvra. High priestess of Lolth. My bearers favourite child. At least as much as a true drow can have favourites.”

He shook his head slightly, tucking the badly cut locks behind one ear.

“Everything really began in the Solstice academy, the wizards school, when I was 16. I met a drow there much like me in unconventional ideals. Tebyrn of house Iym’uit. He was beautiful. Copper eyes and copper hair, an angular face like a statue made by some sculpture of his muse. I think that’s the moment I fell in love with him. That very first day when we were all lined up like sheep to the slaughter.

We shared quarters with other students but in the times we could get together, we talked under the premise we were studying. We grew close even though friendship and love isn't a thing in that society. There is no word for love. Only lust or selfish greed. _Ssinssrigg_.

We would slip out of the city together when we left the academy. To spend time together. Or I would go to his library. I was much more adept at sneaking so I would meet him there when he opened the window and left the candle on the window ledge. We managed to do this for years. Decades even.

Until one night we had arranged to meet outside the city. He never arrived. I found it strange, he'd never been late. So I made my way to the House and found his window open and the candle on the ledge. However when I got into the room I found Zilvra. She had found out. She had tortured him. She slit his throat as I watched the light leave his beautiful eyes. He tried to call my name. I… I couldn’t save him."

There was a pause as Orin took a shaky breath, trying to hold onto his composure. His uninjured hand dug pits into his arm.

"She left me there. She left me in the blood soaked room with the mangled corpse of the only person I had ever cared for. Ever _loved._

When I fled back to my House she didn’t speak a word of it. She didn’t need to. She held it over my head like a sword held by a single hair.

I waited years before making a move on enacting revenge. I had to be careful and plan every step. House Iym’uit had never figured out who killed their head wizard.

So I gave them my own House on a silver platter.

A drow's revenge is never fast.

It is slow. It is methodical.

Cold and calculated to the smallest detail.

It was two more decades before it came to fruit. I, from within my own house, lead a war upon it with House Iym’uit. I stood before the heads of my house and denounced them and their goddess. Blinded them and fled, leaving them to their fate. Our house was already low on favour after my involvement with Tebyrn and in the years after his death, I refused to kill during my youngest brother Kenel‘s blooding, an event where young males get to go to the surface with other older drow to taste their first kill. Kenel helped me escape. He was to come with me… they caught him. He gave his life so I could live. I managed to escape into the tunnels outside of the city and never went back.

I changed my name to Orin after that and spent years surviving alone until I joined a group of mercenaries. It was less for the money and more simply for company. I left them and came to the surface when I grew weary and have lived here since.

Zane and the others found me a few years ago and invited me to join them. Then I met you.”

Orin stopped, looking up finally. Skul was watching him intensely, taking in every detail spoken. After it was clear he was done, the bard looked down then away. “…I’m sorry.”

“…Zane… knew I should have told you before now. But it's still painful.”

“Is that why you’ve been so quiet recently?”

“Yes. Tebyrn died around this time. Last year I had you to focus on. This year it’s kind of crawled up on me.”

Silence spread out before them. There were no words to say now. Not right now. Skul shifted to lay down, taking his bag off to use it as a pillow. He had a lot to think about. A lot to take in. The night had been dreadful and this on top of seeing his family maimed and executed because they were with him?

He screwed his eyes closed, throwing an arm over his face. The guilt would eat at him for the rest of his life.

Orin looked away, unshouldering his bag. After a few moments of searching he realised he'd dropped his dagger in the scuffle. He swore at himself softly under his breath. Just one more thing he'd lost today he supposed. A hand uneasily came to touch his hair, grief rushing through him. He took a shaky breath.

 _It might not be so bad._ He tried to convince himself. _It might even look good? The surface doesn't hold the same ideals_. There was a pause, his hand came to rest on the mirror in his bag. The cold metal and spider detail so familiar to him _. Would Tebyrn have liked it? If we had managed to escape the horror that was our city. Would we have cut our hair of our own accord? He would have looked handsome no matter what length his hair was._

He slowly pulled the mirror out to look at the repercussions that had finally caught up with him. His once beautifully long hair was gone. Hacked to just above his chin it fell in gentle waves around his face. While it probably looked fine to anyone else to him it hurt him to his core. His still bloody hand moved to touch it, smearing blood through his hair as he did. The mirror shook in his hand before clattering onto the bag as the dam finally broke. He would never be able to hide his betrayal now. Not just against his own kind but the family who had adopted him.

Skul sat up slightly looking at Orin as he openly sobbed. He'd never seen Orin cry before. Never seen him show just how much things got to him. He pushed his own pains to one side as he sat up and shifted to be beside Orin, pulling his friend into a tight hug against him.

"I-it's my fault-" Orin hiccupped, "T-Tebyrn… Nova… H-Hap- Our family- it's-"

His voice cut off as he collapsed against Skul, shaking as the weight of it all finally hit him. Skul balled his fists in Orin's cloak, burying his face into the top of the drow's hair. His own breath was shaky, the emotions finally getting to him too as he cried silently. "It's not your fault… She was after me. If anyone is to blame for this it's me…"

☽—✩—✩—✩—✩—✩—☾

As the dawn crept upon them, the sky lightening into oranges and reds, the familiars finally found their masters. Both had fallen asleep, curled up in the grass against each other. The two birds settled besides them to rest as Orin curled closer to Skul under the cloak they were using as a blanket.

When they finally woke they'd have a long way to travel.

But until then, they slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my boyfriend Jonny for proofing. Chief for helping me with moral support and the more intense scenes. 
> 
> and Thank you to my friends on discord. This wouldn't be a thing without your support and feedback. ♥


	5. A New Dawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the horrors of the night before still fresh in their minds, Orin and Skul must go about their journey alone to get to Mudwallow and seek out the necromancer Zane told them about.

Nearly a day's walk away, a drow woman screamed. But the scream wasn’t one of sorrow as if she’d lost some dear one but one of anger, blinding maddening fury that burnt hotter than the fires of any dragon.

Her prey had slipped through her fingers again like slimy eels squirming from between the jaws of a beast. 

The emerald light of the teleportation spell had blinded her more than the gold of the magical barrier and it took a few long moments for her vision to come back completely. By the time she blinked stars away, her fury still unquenched, there was another drow at her elbow.

“[What do you propose now?]” The female asked, sarcasm dripping from every word like water through fingers. Her voice low, as so the warriors in the trees couldn’t hear them, she continued, “[You know Lolth is tired of your failures, Zilvra. You might join our brother in his fate if youre not careful. Our house already met the same fate as House Iym'uit because of yours and our mothers failures.]”

Zilvra bit back a snarl at the unwanted reminder. The night Vornin had fled the city, their house had been pulled into a war with Tebryn’s house, House Iym’uit. They had destroyed the attacking house but their repeated failures to capture and kill Vornin Mel’ett for his betrayal and denouncement of the Spider Queen had led to the ruling house to strike down their own house, absorbing their high priestess for themselves. They had been given new names but with it just being the two high priestesses from their destroyed house they saw no need for it. 

Zilvra scowled, knowing the weight on her shoulders without her younger sibling reminding her. This had been her final chance to please Lolth and the demon born had vanished for nearly a century. She knew the thief had been on the island but not sure where. It had only been the fact the goal was so powerful that Lolth had given her more time.

The eldest daughter glared down at her younger sibling who was so obviously waiting for her elder to fail. The bloody dagger still clutched in her hand frosted over with new ice.

“[I will ask if I wish to be reminded of the stakes, Mizre, if I require it. And I did not speak of requiring it.]” She held the silvery braid up to the pale moonlight. Even in her low light vision it seemed stark white against the dark backdrop. She raised her voice to address the soldiers too, “[The hunt has once again found its path. And Lolth must be smiling upon us for we found both our loose ends together.]” she suppressed a shiver and gleeful laugh of anticipation for the blood shed to come. “[At least now, they cannot hide. We will finish both loose ends in the coming days. The boy who stole the crystal and the brother who betrayed his blood.]”

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

Dawn came without its usual comforts; no tent; no laughter; no found family.

Orin woke first like usual, his forehead pressed into the expanse of the bards back. He stayed there for a while, listening to Skul breathing slowly, feeling the warmth contrasting the dampness upon his skin from the morning dew. If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine they were still in their tent just before the camp awoke. The quiet peace before the joyful chaos. His stomach ached, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in a long while after their sudden exercise and the thought of Minimay’s cooking.

He carefully extracted himself from under the cloak Skul must have laid over them, letting the bard sleep a little longer. He couldn't sleep now, the memories of the night before were once again raw and burning in the forefront of his mind. He fetched his sunglasses from his bag, putting them on to reduce the sun glare and looked out upon the area they had found themselves in in the daylight.

The field was nestled in a semi-circle of trees, grass glistening in the early morning sun, wildflowers not yet awake to greet the warmth gave flecks of colour to the green long grass. They were on a hill, with steep rises to the crest they were on. In the distance he could see the city of Swanpass, nestled against the river in the valley below with the main road beyond. It was cloaked in early morning mist, a mist that broke past the city to the foot of the hill. Turning to the south east, he could see the sea, it's clear deep blue water stretching to the edge of the horizon to meet the sky.

He lingered there a while, contemplating steering Skul away from their original plan to get to Mudwallow to find the secret of the crystal. Perhaps to the little port village and onto a boat away from the islands and across the sea. Away from the death and his sister’s hunt. Away from the region entirely. They could find a new place to live and be happy.

There was a pang of guilt as he remembered Tebyrn. They had planned on running away too. Tebyrn had never managed to leave. He never got his happy ending all thanks to Zilvra.

A prick of pain on his shoulder startled him from his dip into self-loathing and the burning anger that flared at the thought and he turned his head to find Byrn perched there. The bird squawked gently, tugging at one of the short messy locks in front of his ear.

“[Ow-]” he hissed, voice low as to not wake the sleeping tiefling. He flapped a hand at the bird and shook his head. “[I know. It looks bad.]” The bird squawked again and pecked him gently in the temple. He waved the bird off and this time Byrn did flutter away, landing on the grass at his feet.

There was soft groaning and movement behind him and Orin looked around in time to see Skul sit up, rubbing his head. They locked eyes for a moment before Orin looked away, unable to keep eye contact.

He pointed down the hill towards Swanpass. “We might be able to get there by the afternoon if we make good pace.”

Skul rubbed sleep and dew from his eyes and face before squinting in the direction Orin was pointing. He nodded blearily, not trusting his dry throat this early in the morning.

He pulled his pack beside him once he untangled his hair and jewellery, fishing out some dried meat rations he had been holding onto as a snack and a half full waterskin. He halved the stash, holding it up to Orin, who took it and sat down again, eating the provided morsels and sating the hunger that he ignored and washing them down with some sips of water. Byrn stole one from him as Orin stared back out to the sea, lost in his daydreaming again.

Both of them were still weary, physically and emotionally. Skul watched their familiar birds chase after insects or small animals in the distance, ration in one hand, his other fiddling with the troublesome crystal around his neck.

“I‘m sorry.” Skul said quietly, still watching the birds. He daren’t look at the dark elf but his tail curled around them both. “I’m sorry I thought you were hiding something.”

“It’s fine.” Orin dismissed. He was still hurt that Skul had suspected him but he would have too in his position. He dismissed the nagging ache in his chest and packed away the rest of the rations in his bag and getting to his feet, quickly ending that conversation. “Come. We should make our way sooner rather than later. Travelling by day will be safer and if we can, we need to keep to populated areas at night. I doubt they’ll follow us there. We can ask about the quickest route to Mudwallow once we get into Swanpass.”

They gathered their belongings, taking a moment for Skul to strap his scabbards to his hips finally, Orin donning his cloak again. The wizard gave a sharp whistle to the familiars before slowly leading Skul down the hill.

The decline proved a little trouble, their boots sliding in the dirt, made muddy by the dampness of the early morning. Their bodies still felt stiff and each jolt rattled their bones but with each step and slide they found themselves ever closer to the city that sat beside the wide expanse of the channel to the sea. Both walked in silence as Orin led the way into the low land and the rolling mist that danced at the farmland at the foot of the hill.

By the time the sun reached halfway to its highest point they had gotten to the city of Swanpass.

The city was cramped, tall crooked buildings overlapping each other and the street. On a higher hill to the east, the citadel stood, a castle of imposing stature made from carved sandy stone. The banners fluttered in the morning breeze, coloured blue and white with a swan quartered with a bridge. The banner of the city and it’s lord. The houses on citadel hill were cut into the hillside on winding streets that meandered down to the open grounds of the market in the centre of the town where Orin and Skul were stood, surrounded by bustling crowds coming and going with carts and bundles. Despite being still bloody and covered in filth and dirt no one paid them much mind. The mist was still present throughout the lower section of the city, although it thinned as the day grew warmer and sun travelled higher. With the thinning mist, the city seemingly came to life, people pouring into the streets to start their mornings. 

They'd managed to find a general store to resupply their lack of bedding and tent. Orin ticked off a mental list as he stood staring at a selection of daggers as Skul paid for their things trying to decide if he get one or simply go without.

“Get one.” Skul said as he stepped behind him, fighting to get the folded tent into his bag. He glanced up before looking back at the weapons. “We don’t have limitless funds anymore.” He pointed out with a sigh. “We could do a performance but without the others it feels wrong.” Skul shook his head.

“And what if you're out of magic? You need a weapon.”

“… I could hit them with my parasol?”

“And surely break it. When did I become the voice of reason…” Skul leant forwards, picking out a simple looking blade. He bounced it in his hand a few times, holding it close to his face to inspect it before handing it to the drow. “Here. This one should suffice for now.”

Orin stared up at him before sighing heavily, giving up his argument. He knew Skul was right, he'd only get in trouble if they were surprised and he had no access to his magic. He paid for it, slipping it into his belt at his hip.

Leaving the shop, Skul’s eyes fell on a small bakery across the way. It was busy, people bustling about and children giggling over small sweet things they’d brought. They had been to a town similar to this months earlier to a bakery that looked almost the same. It had been cold at the time, the river rimmed with ice and their breath dancing in the air. It had been Nova’s finding day that day and there was a pang in his chest as he’d remembered her barely smiling when he’d brought her a pastry. It wasn’t much of a reaction, but it was monumental to him. 

Orin glanced down as he felt something on the end of his cloak, Skul’s tail had wrapped around the corner of it subconsciously. Following the bard’s gaze, he looked to the bakery. 

“She’s dead isn’t she.” Skul suddenly asked, brow creasing and his vision misting as he looked away and down at his companion. “Nova’s dead, isn’t she?” 

Orin’s shoulders slumped slightly and without a word he nodded. Skul’s eyes closed and a hand came up to scrub away tears, taking a deep sudden breath as he drew himself back together. He turned suddenly, away from the bakery and took Orin’s shoulder, pushing him gently in front. “Come on.” He announced, “Lead the way.” 

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

Despite Orin’s plans to stick to towns and cities at night, both were eager to put as much distance between themselves and Zilvra‘s pack as physically possible as soon as possible. After buying necessary supplies and almost emptying their coin purses they had left on the west road and crossed the bridge towards Ducross. It had been an affair with little conversation other than the required after the incident in and outside the general store and it was leaving Orin on edge. Skul had never been so quiet for so long and with barely a conversation all day it was leaving a deep ache in his chest. Did Skul think ill of him for his deeds in the past or the fact it was his blood who had destroyed the fleeting family Skul had found?

Pushing the doubts to the back of his mind, Orin motioned to Skul to stop so he could check the map before night set in. He knew he should have done all this earlier but his own mind was in constant battle between the current moment and the past, not the future. He drew out the map he'd drawn up from his knowledge of the area and the directions they'd gotten off of a trader in the market from its waterproof pouch of oiled leather.

“We can keep going tonight if you feel up to it?” Orin asked, checking the distance from the city to the crossing as the birds flew off to check the area. “We may be able to get to Ducross Point before tomorrow evening…”

The words however weren’t received, Skul’s mind wandering. He wondered how many of the others had survived. Had they got to Odwal? Did they blame it on him? He wanted to go the other way, to turn back and head north to the great lake. To try and find his family, or what was left of them.

Orin had stopped talking, watching Skul quietly. He followed the bard’s gaze towards the north eastern expanse of sky beside the mountains that took up most of the skyline to the north west. “I wish we knew too.” Orin said close to his side, echoing his own thoughts. He jolted, looking over before back towards the empty road. “What… did you say about traveling? I'm sorry I wasn’t listening.”

“Are you okay with us traveling at night?” Orin repeated patiently. Skul nodded. He was tired already but they were wasting time. A hand came to fiddle with the crystal around his neck. “Quicker we get to Mudwallow the better.”

”If we travel the night we’ll get some distance between us. Once we get to the stop at the crossing we can ask about faster routes to Mudwallow, possibly going through the forest instead of sticking to the road.”

Skul frowned slightly. “Are you sure she won't find us in the forest?”

Orin paused for a moment, thinking. “No. But she's just as likely to find us on the road. Higher even. Although I feel we have a few days head start thanks to the teleport spell. She’ll be less likely to travel during the day as she won’t be as accustomed to the light as I am and the sunlight weakens magical drow items.”

Skul nodded slightly, letting his hand drop from the crystal. It glowed slightly brighter before dimming again to a constant dull light. 

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

Skul seemingly perked up a little on the latter half of their walk to the crossing. The road, thankfully cobbled with stone became easier as it sloped down the hill where the roads converged. He hummed softly, a song Zane had taught him months ago as they took in the fleeting sunshine of the late afternoon before the dark clouds on the horizon stole it again. 

The night before had been dampened by rain that had barely let up till the sun had started to rise and with it Skul had come to the realisation they’d forgotten something important when his clothes had become soaked through. The only saving grace had been the rain had also meant that they’d technically bathed, although Orin would argue otherwise, as the rain had washed off most of the blood and grime that lingered. 

The familiars danced in the sky above them as they walked, chasing insects and occasionally small animals. It was almost peaceful, Orin thought. 

After some time however, Skul’s humming stopped, filling the air with a silence that made Orin uncomfortable. He glanced back at his companion to hind that he’d stopped entirely a good thirty feet behind, holding the crystal in one hand. 

“Is this even worth it?” The bard asked, dark eyes narrowed. There was an anger in his voice that was rare, his calm happy shell cracking. “Is all this death worth it? All for this chunk of rock?”

“…It must be.” Orin recoiled slightly as Skul’s head snapped up to look at him but he pressed on. “Zilvra wouldn’t be this intent on getting it if it wasn’t some powerful relic. It has necrotic magic in it, remember? There's a reason necromancers and all that is governed so heavily. They have the power to raise and bind the souls of the dead. Some have even been known to be able to bind the living- they’re usually the ones who go bad and have to be put down.”

Skul fell quiet, pulling it off and tossing the gently glowing rock to Orin without a word. Orin caught it, watching the tiefling walk off ahead silently. The crystal fell completely dim as he looked back at it, it almost cold to the touch. He sighed, slipping it round his neck regardless of the dread touching it brought to the surface, knowing it was probably part of some dark ritual and jogged to catch up.

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

“A way t’Mudwallah?” The half orc scratched the back of his neck as he placed a flagon of ale on the bar in front of Skul. Orin nodded, passing a silver piece over. “Yes. The quickest way possible.”

They had managed to finally get to the crossing. Skul was fleetingly surprised to find that it wasn’t an empty section of road but a building. Nestled in the valley of the surrounding highland, the three paths from the north, east and west converged on an inn and stables with a small tacked on general store to the side of the main building. It was a large inn, easily three stories high made with white stone with red tiled roofs. The sign outside was in welded steel and wood, with the name ‘The Crossing Point Inn’ in tarnished gilded letters. The store attached to the side of it was of the same white stone but less weather stained with the same red tiles on its roof. It had obviously been added to make profit from being a middle point of the east-west road.

Inside the inn was cozy and warm compared to the downpour of outside. It wasn’t entirely empty, groups of travellers and traders were inside sheltering from the rain that had only began to get harder as time stretched on.

“Well y’could walk as th’crow flies, but y’might get lost. Nothin’ f’miles out there but trees. Best bets t’head west t’Cryswind ‘n’falla up rivah t’Faldah then t’Mudwallah.”

“So west to Cryswind, then north to Falder then to Mudwallow?”

“Yeh. Falderun is a crossin‘ point on t’rivah up there.”

Skul sipped the ale silently watching between the two men as they spoke. Orin was scribbling down notes in the corner of his map as the innkeeper spoke, pointing to points on the hastily sketched map.

He was weary, his feet hurt from the long walk and he was soaked to the bone. Orin had offered the cloak but he had denied it, reasoning it would be better if one of them stayed dry, even if it was barely. Not to mention that once he had calmed down after his outburst on the road he felt awful. Sure he'd lost whatever he had for family but Orin was still here and he was trying to protect what he had left from the family he’d left and been disowned by for simply loving someone.

He watched Orin. As long as the wizard talked it seemingly meant he didn’t have to think, a tactic that he’d employed often in the last day of travel, rambling about everything and anything but what had happened when the silence grew too suffocating. Skul had been too tired and angry to talk. He was trying to smother his own grief by trying to focus on the reasons why and the plan ahead. His eyes drifted down from Orin’s face to fall on the crystal, now dull and lifeless around his neck. The time he'd worn it since waking, the crystal had gone through fits and starts where it glowed. Sometimes it was bright enough to light the tent in a dim purple hue while others were like a dying ember at the bottom of a fire pit trying to cling onto fuel and air. When Sebastian rested on his shoulder it shone brighter still but while it was around Orin’s neck, there was nothing. It was just a rock on a string.

He wondered if this necromancer, Interitus, would really be able to identify the spell. Perhaps he could identify the spell even a year later that Skul had been under. They were perhaps connected in some way. There might be some part of it that held the secret to the shrine and his awakening there. If there was someone or something in the crystal, a man or beast, he wasn’t sure if it could be saved or if they even should however.

All of the theorising would be pointless however if the man they needed no longer lived in Mudwallow. For all he knew they could get there to find an empty house. Zane hadn't seen the necromancer in years.

He glanced up as Orin waved a hand in front of his face realising that his eyes must have unfocused at some point. “I‘m going to the room. It’s number four on the left apparently…” he looked past him to the stairs before looking back. “I'll see you up there.”

“Queer fella ya travelin' wiv. Don’t see dark elves of'en up topside. Well, not friendly ones that is. Don’t see many tieflings either, thinkin' 'bout it.” The half orc, who had introduced himself as Terrowin to Orin when they first sat down, commented once the latter had left them.

“We were part of a traveling group. Got separated.” Skul offered half-heartedly, sipping from his mug.

The dark green skinned half orc squinted down at him. Terrowin was easily seven feet tall with black hair that sparkled with streaked silver pulled back into a ponytail that brushed the top of his shoulder blades. His face half hidden under thick facial hair that he’d shaped and tamed with some kind of wax. Skul's eyes drifted back to his flagon of ale. “We were attacked… We don't know how many of our family survived. Our leader Zane told us- forced us- to run.”

The barman's posture shifted. “Wait, Zane? Wood elf w’blond hair?”

Skul nodded slightly, not looking up.

“Tempus’ bane- what's th’old fool got himself into now…”

Skul's attention finally did shift, his head snapping up. “What? You knew him?”

“Yeah I know ‘im. Used t’come through with Aveos’ lot when I was a lad then when he formed his own group. Ain’t spoken to the old man in a while though. If I’d known you were two of his boys I wouldn't have made you pay.” Terrowin shook his head. “If there’s trouble like ye say though, he’ll head back ta Aveos.”

“We were heading to Odwal to see The Emerald Dragons.”

“An’ ya got caught on t’road? Where exactly?”

“North of Stabler, before Galt.”

The half orc rubbed his beard, fingers smoothing over his moustache, deep in thought for a moment.

“Say it’d take’m a day at least if they were rushin’… may already be there.”

Skul’s brow crinkled, confused. “Why do you sound so sure he’d survive? I saw Alas fall. Zane ran straight at them-“

“Alas is hardier than ya give her credit for and I've known Zane a fair while. He's survived a lot and Aveos taught him well.” Terrowin paused before speaking slowly, his voice taking on a tone of a father trying to soothe a son. “There may be casualties, some of them may be gone from this plane but they won't be forgotten. If he follows the tradition of the others, He’ll paint their names on the caravans. Aveos’ caravans are old and many people have come and gone from him. He paints every name on the caravans. It’s something to witness. Can’t explain it.”

Their conversation ended there as a group of traders and their guards stumbled in and to the bar, drawing Terrowin's attention. Skul looked back to his ale, mulling over the words.

There was so much he'd never known about the others. He was beginning to realise he should have asked them more questions but the moment was gone. He'd have no chance to ask about the names on Aveos’ caravans or Zane's time before, of Alas’s past or the past of any of the others. He suspected he’d probably never see them again, either due to his and Orin’s hunter catching up with them finally, the glittering dragon’s untimely deaths or that he’d simply never come across them again. But despite all that, he was relieved to know that had they survived they'd be safe now well away from the danger that seemed to follow him.

A candle on the window ledge, the room beyond it. The blood, his old lovers twisted visage.

Orin woke with a start to find Skul still dressed, face down on the large double bed beside him, his soft snoring muffled by the pillow. 

His eyes gazed around the room, trying to recall where he was.

The room was cast in shades of grey in the low light. He could see the end of the bed, a mirror in one corner by the door covered by his cloak, the heavy chest under the window. Their bags bundled in a chair that looked like it had seen better days. The black shapes of familiars that he'd let in through the window the night before perched on the top of the rail that held the curtains, seemingly asleep. He closed his eyes, exhaling heavily.

No bloody room, no mangled copper haired drow. He was safe at The Crossing Point inn.

His eyes fell on the window, trying to gauge the time.

The rain was still coming, still heavy but not enough to shake the window panes like it had been when he’d crawled Into bed. The clouds made it difficult to gauge but the lack of sun-glow suggested it was still the early hours, possibly an hour or two before dawn. He lay back down and just lay there a while, watching the rain hit the glass through the gap in the thick wool curtains. He enjoyed the rain. The sound, the smell. He couldn’t say he entirely disliked how it made his clothes cling and cool his skin. He’d never encountered rain before coming topside and even now he enjoyed the feel of it.

He glanced to Skul to check if he'd stirred at all. The bard was sleeping peacefully and deeply enough from what he could tell, his face completely buried in the pillow, his hair untied and cascading over his horns and back.

Orin swung himself out from the sheets, pulling on his shirt and boots, his pants still on despite their dampness and filth. He flipped the covers over to cover Skul despite his position on top of them and slipped out the room.

He left by a side door that led to an area outside that was paved with thick slabs of white stone like the walls and sat on a bench there, closing his eyes and leaning his head back to feel the rain on his face.

He sat there for a time, long enough that the sun rose enough to turn the grey clouds orange. A jingle behind him jerked him from his silent pondering and he looked round to see the second larger side door to the shop open. Another half orc, a woman this time, stood in the doorway, soft lamp light haloing her head and a sign under her arm. “You’ll catch a cold.” She pointed out bluntly, unfolding the painted sign that advertised the little general store. “Sure Zane taught ya better than that.”

“What?” Orin spluttered staring at her.

“Zane was yer leader right? Terrow told me ‘bout you and that tiefling fella. Get in before you catch your death.”

Orin got up, slipping into the warmth of the store as she held the door open. The walls were full of racks and shelves carrying everything a traveller would need.

He pushed wet locks from his eyes, looking around. “How did Terrowin know?”

“Teifling fella told him that yall were attacked.” The woman answered, slipping back behind the counter. “Im Terrow’s sister. Names Feliz. What were ya doin sitting in the rain anyway?”

“Enjoying it. But also waiting for you to open I guess. Do you sell cloaks?”

Feliz raised an eyebrow, glancing over his disheveled state. “Might have somethin’ in your size-“

Orin shook his head, cutting her off. “No no. Not me. For Skul. The teifling I'm traveling with. He’s about this tall.” Orin waved a hand at roughly his missing companions height. “I have one in the room.”

She shrugged slightly, turning to a rack behind the counter filled with different lengths and colours of cloaks. After a moment she pulled out a black cloak, holding it up to check the length. "This might work."

"How much?"

"While m'brother would say on t'house. We do need to make money here. Two Gold." Feliz shrugged.

Orin pulled his money purse out from the string around his neck, fishing out three gold and handing it to her. "I'm not sure how much Skul drank last night and how much he paid for but still, take it."

She picked up the gold pieces, looking them over before placing them in a box under the counter. "You're good kids. No wonder he picked you up." Orin bit back the urge to point out he was older than her, folding up the cloak and turning back towards the door, heading back into the rain to slip back up to the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get all of this and the next part out before halloween but it didn't happen. Oh well! Get ready for chapter 6 when it gets SPOOPY!
> 
> Thanks to my friends on discord and Chief for proofreading and also bonking me on the head for being too hard on myself.


	6. Holiday Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not exactly a chapter! Just a little present from me to you readers:  
> Art work! 
> 
> This is just a thank you to all the readers who keep coming back (Lookin at you Jack ;P ) and I hope you all had a lovely holidays! New chapter will be coming soon!

Above is drawn by Leche and coloured by myself.[ Commission Leche on Kofi here! ](https://ko-fi.com/tresleches) (also this is everyones first look at Zilvra!) 

The above is drawn by Chief! [Commission Chief on Kofi here! ](https://ko-fi.com/A88614ZS)

Drawn by Risto! [Contact them through their medias here! ](https://linktr.ee/RistoArtworks)

Above drawn by my friend Nora! [Find her at Tumblr here! ](https://grandtales.tumblr.com/)

* * *

And now the one that started it all! (and the others done by the same artist!!) 

(Second one is animated by myself since Gio also gave me a day themed one) 

and as a bonus! Tebyrn!!

All of these were drawn by Gio! She's one of my favourite and she is actually who designed Orin visually! (Based on my description). His red cloak is actually in tribute to her!

[Contact her and commission her here! ](https://slightly-gay-pogohammer.tumblr.com/post/182824372496/hmmm-bout-time-i-did-this-again)

* * *

**If you got to the bottom of here I just want to thank everyone who supports me on discord and who keeps coming back to read each chapter. Honestly without you guys I'd be lost. Thank you to Chief for proofing me and giving me pep talks. Thank you to both of my partners, Crystal and Jonny. I love you both a whole damn lot and without you two this year would have been much more hellish.**

**Actual chapter 6 is much more... a halloween chapter but things happened and it didn't work out so I guess it's fine for the end of the year too! Thank you guys! I'll see you soon!**


	7. Beyond the flags of Brairswick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyyy. Chapter 6 in before the end of the year. 
> 
> Trigger warning for mentions of murder.

By the time Skul had woken, washed up and gotten ready, the rain had died away to a gentle drizzle. Orin on the other hand had already eaten, repacked everything, plotted out their route and even got another short nap in.

The two waved goodbye to Terrowin as they passed the bar to leave, who gave them a wave in reply and requested that if they met Zane again, to point him in his direction.

It was still drizzling for an hour after they left the warmth and safety of the Crossing Point Inn, till sun broke through the clouds at its highest point, bathing them in warmth and drying them a little as they trudged on, the cobbled road slightly muddy with the night's rain.

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

It took another two days from the inn to get to Cryswind. The rain had mostly passed now, apart from the occasional shower, and the sun was rising earlier, stealing away at the limited timeframe Zilvra had to make up the distance. The earlier sun also brought the companions comfort and ease they hadn't felt since before the attack on the camp.

Cryswind, much like Stabler, was built half across the river it sat beside. A single bridge, only twenty feet across, connected the two halves of the town over a wide rapid river that lead straight to the endless blue-green expanse of the sea, not far past the town itself. The fresh sea breeze was enough to lift Skul‘s spirits a little more, easing away a lot of the uneasiness eating at him.

Orin looked to the north, his gaze, blocked partially by his sunglasses, scanning the route of the river. “We can follow the river from here. Should make better time to Mudwallow.”

Skul looked away from the ocean and instead looked towards the hills Orin was staring at. The valley they were in, continued for a few miles before starting to steepen upwards. With the clear weather, Skul could even make out the river's path cutting between the rill rises.

“Wouldn’t go that way.” A voice behind the two said. Both turned and Skul’s hand fell on his sabre, body tensing as if to anticipate an attack that never came.

Behind them was an old woman, human Skul suspected, in many layers of blues and brown fabric. Her hair fell about her face in ringlets, framing her withering features. “Village was lost. It's haunted now. No-one goes up there and leaves again.”

The pair exchanged glances. Skul shrugged gently to Orin, letting his hand drop from the weapon.

“What do you mean?” Orin asked incredulously.

The old woman snorted, waving a hand at him. “Everyone who ever went to Brairswick never returned. She doesn’t let anyone leave.” She pointed to the west road. “Follow that.. Not the river.”

With little more explanation she hobbled off, leaving the two very confused.

“We've been nearly murdered twice in the past few weeks and that was the weirdest thing that’s happened.” Skul mumbled watching her leave. Orin bit his tongue to hold back a laugh as Skul looked down at him, “Still. Should we listen?”

“We can ask around. Perhaps there's a way around the town.”

Orin slipped the hard bread into his bag as the baker, a middle aged human man with dusty blond hair, clipped short to his head and a freshly shaved face, gave a snort as Orin asked about the woman who had warned them away from the river. “Oh yeah that’d be Old Hildegard. Crazy old bat. Weird shits been happening up in the old village.” He gave a small shrug, putting the silver Orin had passed over into the front pocket of his apron as he spoke. “If you're gonna follow the river there's sticks with red flags around the perimeter of the village. Hilde put them there. Says that it keeps the boundary of the village contained or something along them lines. Follow them if you believe her crap.” 

Orin nodded slightly, closing his bag as he headed back for the door. “Thank you. I'll keep that in mind.”

“Red flags?” Skul asked, raising an eyebrow after Orin had repeated back to him what the baker had told him. Orin gave a shrug.

“Yeah. She apparently made them and put them around the perimeter. If we follow them around the edge we should avoid the village no issue.”

Skul looked to the sky. It was already getting dark, the sun almost gone over the horizon of the hills to the west, the sky a patchwork of clouds catching the dying light and the sky turning gentle shades of oranges and pinks. “Lets rest up tonight and leave early tomorrow to hopefully get around the village before dark. I don’t want to try finding markers in the dark.”

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

Mud squelched around their boots as the pair followed the river north. Despite the rain having been gone for the night and even the following day, the river bank was still muddy and the river higher then usual turning grassland to boggy marsh in the lowest dips of the land. Skul had finally taken his necklace back that morning, much to Orin’s relief, and was in the process of fiddling with it as they walked. The silence of focus was broken a few hours after they'd set off.

“Orin?”

“Mm?” He replied, trying to focus on not falling into a particularly deep puddle.

“Could Sebastian be something to do with your sister?”

Orin glanced up at the black silhouette leading the way, followed by the smaller black and white shape of Byrn. “Doubtful. Last time I checked she couldn’t summon things. Her powers lie more in manipulation of emotions and twisting that to her advantage. Or at least they had been last time I saw her. Besides, he said he was the familiar of the person in the crystal. Never known a familiar to lie.”

Skul nodded slightly despite Orin not looking at him and hopped over a boggy section of land to catch himself of a tree. He grunted softly as he straightened before continuing his questions. “Has she always been… like that?”

Orin glanced over his shoulder, looking at him confused. “Like what?”

“…Evil and power hungry?”

He snorted and looked back to the grass and tree roots of the bank. “That’s what drow are like. Usually anyway. It's not common for drow to grow a conscience. Or be born with one. Guilt and compassion aren’t understood concepts.”

Silence fell between them again for a time as their attention fully returned to their difficult trek. After nearly an hour of silence, muddy wading and uncomfortable soggy boots, it was Orin's turn to ask a question.

“Do you not remember anything still?”

Skul glanced up and sighed softly. “No. Not really. Every time I really try I get a headache.”

“Have you tried praying to Titania at all?” Orin glanced back at him for a moment.

“Not had chance. Do you think she'd even reply?”

Orin went to shrug but the movement turned into a jolt as his foot slipped. He caught his balance, arms outstretched. “Ow- Probably not but can’t hurt.”

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

They had found the first wooden post with a scrap of red fabric tied to the top of it by late afternoon. The sun was starting to get low, throwing the shaded companions into lower light. Following the first, they’d managed to find the next three in an irregular line before losing track as a sudden dense fog flowed from the north. Both looked between each other concerned after nearly half an hour of fruitless searching in the rising murk. The familiars also couldn’t seem to locate it and they were running out of time. In a few minutes the sun would set and they'd lose their waning ability to see colour.

“Do you not know a spell for this?” Skul asked, digging through some undergrowth in hopes of finding the marker, sending tendrils of fog up to dance in the air. Orin shook his head before realising Skul couldn’t see him.

“No… I wish I had though.”

There was a sudden squawk above them as Sebastian called their attention. Both looked up as the raven suddenly dive bombed through the lower branches, cutting through the fog, to soar low over the bushes and land short of one, tugging at the overgrown shrub. After a moment the raven pulled it free and the pair watched the marker topple from between branches, the fabric still in the ravens beak. Orin glanced around trying to gauge their bearings. “Skul, were the wrong side.”

The bard looked back at him and shrugged, traipsing back to the raven to get back to the right side. Only, as he got closer to the magical bird, his vision went dark.

When his vision returned he was facing Orin.

“Wait, what?” Skul looked between the wizard and back the way he thought he had been going. Orin stood silently as Skul again turned and made his way back towards the marker that was now nearly ten feet away again. Orin's vision flickered dark as if someone had briefly covered his eyes and Skul was once again back where he'd started.

Sebastian simply stood and watched the whole affair, just slightly outside of the magical barrier that kept turning Skul round. After Skul attempted a third time and failed, Sebastian dropped the fabric, took off and landed on the bards shoulder.

Orin frowned. “Seems animals can come and go, magical of not. But people can’t.”

“So we can’t go backwards,” Skul concluded, “or forwards. We’re stuck here.”

Orin nodded slightly, panic fluttering in his stomach like trapped bats. “We can only go deeper int the village.” He looked towards the north. The village was still a way off, distance and fog rendering it unseeable at this moment. Without another word, Byrn came to rest upon his own shoulder and Orin turned, heading deeper into the roiling mist.

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

The gloom thinned a fraction as small dancing lights came into view. The sun had set now, plunging them into darkness only made lesser by their dark vision. The lights picked out stark white dots to begin with before turning into blue as the pair grew close enough to make out the light better.

There was a flicker below Skul’s shirt that made both stop. The crystal was glowing faintly. They looked up to see the orbs of blue flame had shifted, taking on the forms of humanoids now they had got close enough to the edge of the village where the fog seemed thinnest. 

“Will’o’wisps,” Orin whispered, his uneasiness increasing. Skul glanced at him and tilted his head slightly. “Souls of the dead trapped in life for eternity. Usually by a curse or some such. I've only read about them and Zane told me about one case in Shri. There was a village that was cursed by a necromancer gone rogue. They had to burn the village down in the end and cleanse the land as it kept taking victims and they couldn’t find the thing focusing it. I've read it can be caused by objects and other things like bodies too.”

“Are you telling me we might become one of them if we don’t figure out how to get rid of the curse?” Skul asked as Sebastian shifted on his shoulder, both watching the wisps mill around seemingly aimless on the outskirts of the village. 

The village looked much older then the rumours had suggested. Most of the wooden houses radiating out were already rotting. Roofs and doors had fallen in or were falling off, the plant life taking over all but a clearing in the centre. Orin didn’t reply, seemingly not wanting to voice their fate in case it made it true.

Both crept forwards and Skul opened his mouth to ask if he had any ideas but stopped, both frozen to the spot. Somewhere, close by, the sound of crying came to them, cutting through the eerily silent night.

“Theres someone else here?” Skul whispered, already stepping forwards. Orin didn’t look as confident.

“Wait but what if-“

Skul stopped as the wisps all turned to look at him as he drew closer, before turning towards the wailing sound. After a long few seconds they carried on their silent wandering, but obviously moving away from the sound and giving a wide birth to the centre of the village. The deathly wailing only seemed to grow louder.

Skul drew a sabre, slowly walking forwards with more caution then he had before, Orin close behind, hands already weaving together a protective spell. Both birds took flight, choosing to fly high and circle.

In the centre of the village was a stone well, in almost perfect condition compared to the other structures. The stone was still well kept although the only part of the frame left for the bucket where two iron supports that jutted up from the stone sides as the wooden turning wheel had either been removed at some point or had decayed. The area directly out from it however was dead and dying, all the plant life turned to rotten mush that left a stench that bit into their senses. They kept a wide birth, edging around the structure to see the source of the sobbing.

As Orin’s spell flickered to life, a golden sheen coating him, a tall, seemingly stretched white figure burst from the ground in front of them.

Skul’s first instinct was to move away, throwing an arm out to push Orin behind him as the figure came to rest merely steps from them.

It looked as if it might have been a human woman at some distant point, although she was now visibly distorted and very much dead. Her face and proportions where exaggerated and stretched as if made from a white clay, her face permanently stuck in an expression of silent screaming. Dark dried blood stained her face in streaks from her nose, eyes and mouth. Long white hair hung around her face in impossibly long strands, fluttering as if made from cloth or ribbon in some unfelt wind. The dress she wore was long, however past her torso was seemingly soaked in died blood, the only other contrast on the white figure.

Distracted by taking in the suddenly appearing spectre, Skul didn’t react in time as a clawed hand of disjointedly long fingers snapped out, slashing the bard across the face.

Blood flowed and pain drew him back to the moment, blossoming hot and ragged across his face. He gasped, staggering back slightly as Orin’s hand flew up to fire a blast of icy wind from his palm, his other hand clasped upon the spider amulet. The spectre barely seemed to notice, unseeing dead eyes focused on the tiefling. Her dislocated jaw moved, an ungodly sound echoing through their bones as she pointed at Skul.

Skul lunged forwards, the taste of blood on his tongue. As his sabre sliced through the air, the metal flashed hot, golden flames leaping along the length of the blade. The flames caught the bloody fabric and in an instant it caught light.

The spirit shrieked, suddenly surging forwards. Both wizard and bard staggered backwards as the blood in their bones turned icy. Orin managed to catch himself but Skul staggered backwards, slipping on the sludge of decaying plants, and before Orin could lunge to catch him, toppled backwards over and into the well.

There was a scream of fear, a sharp crack of skull on stone and the world went black.

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

Orin huddled against the side of a decaying house, a hundred paces away from the well he had watched Skul fall down over twenty minutes ago. He had no idea of Skul was alive. The last thing he'd seen was the star covered tiefling vanishing in a flash of colourful fabric down into the darkness of the well. The weight of the idea he’d failed to save him clawed at the edges of his mind but he pushed it down for the moment.

He had managed to run from the spectre as it had turned on him, running almost all the way from the village to the boundary that kept them trapped before looping back into the village. Now the creature was wandering the area, wailing in a tongue that may have been common but Orin could barely make out the words.

He glanced around the area. The two magical birds kept a distance, circling and cawing unhappily over the well, a sign that gave a flicker of hope. Wisps still moved between and through the rotting structures, throwing bizarre shadows up the walls and across the ground.

To the north, Orin spotted another building, a small one story house with a walled garden. This house looked strangely intact unlike the others, which were in as bad a state as the shrine Skul had been found in. In the moonlight and ever shifting wisp light, he could see the copper coloured roof and smoke stack of carved stone still stood tall, standing out above the other decayed shells. Much like the well, the spirits drifting like falling leaves all avoided it, keeping a wide distance from the building leaving an almost clear path to it from his hiding spot.

Making sure the spectre didn’t see him, he shifted away from the wall, keeping low to avoid attention and made his way towards the house as carefully as possible.

While it was abandoned, it looked in perfectly good shape from the outside, albeit for the same decaying plant life around the parameter, the same smell of decay assaulting his senses. He found the gate and the door to the house on the east side, just out of sight from the well. The door was arched, made from wood with discoloured flowers and ivy painted along the hinge side. He tried the handle but found it locked tight. Pulling his dagger out, he jammed it in the gap between the lock and the wall and pushed. Using his weight to lever the dagger against the lock, the wood creaked and cracked but didn’t budge. He pushed again grunting as the dagger flexed and threatened to snap instead. He gave another full body shove into the dagger, wood popped and groaned before there was a loud crack and the door came open as the lock failed.

Feeling eyes on his direction, he pushed the door open enough to slip inside and closed it behind him.

Inside was preserved as well as the outside, however signs of a struggle were obvious and the temperature was somehow even lower than the cool night outside. There were two plush chairs, one of which was tipped backwards. A fireplace sat on the far wall, the ash in them still sitting where it was left. A small door to the left lead into a different room, which he could see was a small kitchen from the ajar door. Shelves of personal affects, a low bookcase full of dusty books and a small table adorned the rest of the main room. Flowers in a forgotten vase atop of the low bookcase had withered and dried up, leaving behind dark dry husks. Despite the world outside looking as if it had been abandoned for years or decades, this house seemed to have only been abandoned for months.

Blood stained the floor and tipped chair an even darker black in the colourless low light. Blood seemed to start at the chair, splattering across the floor as if thrown before the thing that had been bleeding was dragged from the chair to the door he stood just inside. He toyed with the idea of casting a spell to detect magic, but the idea of sitting still for ten minutes alone in a place that could kill him, made him decide it was a very bad idea.

He stepped further into the room, taking it slow as the floor boards creaked under his boots as if any small noise may alert the ethereal guardian of the village. Dust danced in the passing lights from outside with every step, nearly making him sneeze. There were two teacups still sat on the small table between the chairs. Picking up the one closest to the tipped chair, he examined it, gently blowing away the dust gathered inside it. At the bottom was a residue which didn’t seem to be dust. It was pale and pooled at the very bottom like someone had added too much sugar and it still smelt strangely sweet. He glanced at the sight of the blood, then the lack of the strange residue in the other cup which was just stained darker by the evaporated tea and put the cup back, coming to his conclusion without tasting it. Some type of poison.

“What’s keeping you here… an item maybe? It must be here or the well… these are the only places left standing,” he mused out loud, slowly going through everything in the room.

Going into the kitchen he found a door that lead to a small bedroom and washroom. Ignoring the washroom he started through the bedroom. There was a simple large bed in the centre with two small tables either side, near the wall by the door was a desk, paper and a moth eaten quill still sat where they'd been left. Opening the drawers systematically, he finally found a clue; a letter written in bold letters. It was fragile but he managed to unfold it enough to read it.

_‘MY BEAUTIFUL ARANNA,_

_I AM OVERJOYED TO HEAR YOU ARE DOING WELL WITH CHILD._

_I AM ON MY WAY BACK FROM SHRI AND I WILL BE HOME TO SEE YOU AND OUR BEAUTIFUL CHILD SOON._

_YOUR LOVE,_

_DAILIUS’_

Carefully refolding the letter, he glanced back towards the door, a grim look on his face. “Did you kill her…?”

He placed the letter back, turning on the spot slowly to look around the room once more. On the bedside table was a picture frame of carved wood, a sketched portrait of the woman he suspected who lived here and possibly the man from the letter, pressed behind the glass. She looked vaguely similar to the spectre that had attacked them, although her features now where stretched and twisted. She really had been beautiful once.

Nothing else in the room was of note. Just clothes, baby items that had been left in a box under the bed and more letters. Nothing seemed to stand out as strangely intact which scuppered his idea of an item keeping her bound to this place. Everything showed signs of decay or had become the meal of moths.

He headed back to the living area, peaking through the grimy window and tatty curtains.

He could see the spectre, Aranna, still near the well, pacing like a guard dog on duty. The two birds still circled and confirmed to him that Skul must still be alive in the depths of the well. He needed to draw her away so he could hopefully rescue him and if his hunch was correct, find Aranna’s body.

He looked around the room once more. His eyes lingered on the books but he didn’t have any more time to waste. Fishing a tinderbox from his bag, he apologised to the air, “I’m sorry, this is for your own good.”

The chair still standing went up in flames in the instant he threw the lit match onto it. Black smoke billowed up in thick tendrils as the flames grew higher, coating the ceiling in soot and stealing the air from the room, the chilly temperature suddenly rocketing to far too hot. Caught by surprise at the sudden ferocity of the fire, Orin coughed and choked, pulling his cloak over his face as he darted for the door. After some shoving and tugging he stumbled into the garden, in time to hear ghostly shrieking from the direction of the well. Stumbling as fast as he could from the quickly burning building as he attempted to suppress his coughing, he darted into a different garden down the road. Wisps quickly turned and started towards the burning building, only being beaten as Aranna’s ghost charged down the path away from the well.

Taking the chance, he hopped the opposite crumbling wall and ducked between a row of houses parallel, sprinting towards the well as fast as his smoky lungs allowed him.

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

Skul awoke to a throbbing pain in the back of his head. He opened his eyes, staring up at the faint moonlight streaking in through the opening at the top of the well fifty feet up, its light barely coming through to light up the hole he was in, although a dull pale purple seemed to fill the chamber he was in. He lay for a long few moments trying to gauge how injured he was without moving too much.

He came to the conclusion that ‘rather’ was a good choice.

He felt exhausted and his ears were ringing slightly. There was a splitting pain in his head and face and his back and shoulders ached from the impact with the well and the floor.

He slowly sat up, his head spinning as he did so. He could hear distant wailing above him and the cawing of familiar birds, although the screeching spectre seemed far away. His tested the back of his head with his fingertips and found they came away glistening, the blood black in the glow of the crystal under his shirt.

He looked around, taking in his surroundings; The bottom of the well was a roughly dug chamber of twenty feet or so tall and half as much wide. He had fallen and landed on a mass of moss and what seemed to be rotting foliage. The ground was soft, earthy and almost spongey directly under him, while around the mound was wet, under a foot or so of water gauging by how well he could see the end of his tail. 

He shifted, making to get up slowly. He slipped as he shifted his weight, his hand crunching down through something hard but fragile under the moss. Shifting onto his knees to face the source, he pulled clumps of moss and leaves away to find something stark white in the darkness. Shifting again to give himself more light, he finally realised what the shape was.

A jaw and the shattered skull his hand had just gone through.

He barely had time to process and for his twisting stomach to rebel as Orin’s hushed voice echoed down the well. “Skul? Please tell me you're alive down there?”

He looked up, a dark shadow he suspected was the drow's head blocked out the little light from above.

“Y-yeah… everything hurts but I'm alive…”

A coil of rope dropped down as Orin secured the other end to the well’s iron support, his voice echoed down in rushed whispers, “Did you find any bones down there? A woman's maybe?”

Struggling to his feet in the soggy greenery, Skul took a moment to catch his breath as his head spun. “Think so. Why?”

“They're Aranna’s- the spectre’s. Hurry out I need to burn them.”

Despite the questions running through his muddled mind, he picked out the words of healing Zane had taught him through the brain fog. He exhaled heavily as the spell washed over him, easing his aching body. Granted, he still hurt but the spell took the edge off enough that he might have the strength to pull himself out of the hole he was in.

Finding his fallen sword in the water he sheathed it, before tugging on the end of the rope to test it before trying to climb his way up. He could hear Orin shuffling around above him, whispering for him to hurry up as he used all the strength he could muster to pull himself up the twenty feet before he could use the narrower shaft to walk up.

Orin had edged around the well as he got nearer the top, now close enough to see his companion in the flickering orange light. He could smell the burning of fire before he could see it.

Gripping the edge of the well, he pulled himself out with some effort and assistance from Orin, turning to see the source of the light. A burning house.

“What happened? How long-“

Orin cut him off with a headshake, pulling him away from the well. Now Skul could see him properly, he noticed Orin was covered in soot, the grime colouring the top of his hair darker and smudging his dark skin black.

His attention shifted again as a soul chilling screech came from behind him. This time it was Orin’s turn to push his way in front as the drow saw the danger coming.

A ghostly clawed hand struck out, glancing off and then tearing through a glittering golden shield that flashed in front of him. Blood glistened in the firelight as it bloomed across Orin’s chest, stealing the breath from his lungs.

Skul fumbled in his bag, drawing his viola and it's bow. Thankfully, it was still clean and dry thanks to the magically enchanted bag. Focusing on a point just behind the spectre, he played a few short, sharp notes. The sound seemed to come from behind the spectre instead of from the instrument, a large cracking sound emanating from the spot the other side of the well as the final note hit.

In a single deafening moment the well was flattened, and the spectre caught off guard was flung forwards, towards them. It phased through them as it was, sending a chill through to their bones. As soon as Orin had a clear view of the well, he cast his spell; a flaming orb appearing over the flattened well that was now just a hole in the ground. It hung for a moment before dropping down the hole, sending steam billowing up into the sky.

They both turned to see Aranna scream, her body jerking and twisting obscenely as she turned to mist and drifted off into the starry sky. Orin’s expression softened as he finally understood her screaming.

She was weeping for her baby, not herself.

They watched as slowly, one by one the wisps that had gathered around the edge of their fight slowly winked out of existence.

Both deflated once the danger had left. Skul watched for a moment longer before putting his instrument away and turning Orin to face him. The dark elf stared up at him wordlessly as he placed a hand gently over the bleeding wounds, mumbling the words of healing under his breath. The pain that would have kicked in once the shock of everything had passed, eased before he even truly felt it. There was a moment of stillness before the shaking overcame the smaller man, red eyes growing wide as the past hour finally sank in. It'd not been a very long night but the strangeness and the weight of the individual events were something he'd pushed to the side.

☽ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ✩ — ☾

Morning came a few hours later as Orin and Skul slept under a tree, both too exhausted to attempt to leave the ruined village. Their wounds were tended to; Skul's face was mostly healed although sore, Orin's chest was mostly healed however his clothes still needed to be patched when they got out of the forest.

They woke with sun in the eyes as it peaked above the treeline. Now they were safely out of danger, Orin explained what happened after Skul vanished down the well as they had a breakfast of bread, rations and water sat under a tree on the outskirts of the now silent village.

In the morning light they could see the house was smouldering still, sending a plume of dark smoke into the blue sky. The well was flattened, the rubble that had been its stone walls had been flung in all directions, the earth around it scorched by heat and decay.

“He killed her because she was pregnant then dumped her body in the well,” Orin concluded, “her grief poisoned the land and the people.” He watched the smouldering building sadly as Skul tucked his waterskin back in his bag. He winced slightly as a stabbing pain shot through his head behind his eyes. He screwed them closed, trying to breath slowly the pain ebbed. For a split second, he was sure he saw a red skinned woman's face behind his eyelids. Before he could really get a grasp on her features though, she was gone. Orin placed a hand on his shoulder, worry in his crimson eyes as Skul finally opened his own. 

"Are you okay?" 

Skul nodded, forcing a smile for a moment before touching the crystal around his neck, changing the subject quickly. “My necklace was glowing when she was near and when I was near her body. I wonder if it's something to do with whatever spell is on it?”

Orin climbed to his feet, frowning slightly, he offered his hand out to Skul to help him up. "Perhaps." He dusted himself down a little and pulled his cloak over his torn shirt. They were both filthy and he personally looked like he'd been dragged through a firepit. "We'll find out soon hopefully. Let's keep going. I... I want to be as far north of here as possible before nightfall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who kept coming back to read. We're not over yet, but it's been one hell of an interesting year. 
> 
> I didn't ever think 2020 would be this manic. When I startedl it was feburary, there wasn't a plague, and I was in a job I hated.   
> Now? Well we're in a plague that has time dilated the entire year into Marugstember, but I'm in a job where I don't wish to burn the building down. (Although if I did now, well theres not much building TO burn since it's a building site). 
> 
> Skul started as an idea for a PC I wanted to play in our newest game. DM rejected him on... really stupid grounds and told me I wouldn't use him as a character because he already had 'lore' inuniverse. (Which he didn't as Skul as a character was initially my friend, Danny's, who gave me Skul with the promise I'd keep his name. Hence the strange ass name). DM still insisted no, so told him 'fuck you. I can do whatever I want and I'm going to write a story' and plotted out the entire story in a day. 3 days later, I finally started writing the prologue.   
> What I thought might take like 10 chapters? Has turned into what I suspect will maybe take 30 chapters or more from the pace I'm going. However despite the fact I've been told even currently that it's 'kinda long', I can't really see any way of shortening it without it feeling... rushed. The characters wouldn't have the depth they do, and the world wouldn't either! 
> 
> The boys have a long way to go, new characters and party members to eventually meet and maybe even a quick glance back to what happened with The Glittering Dragons troupe and if they got to the Emerald Dragons!   
> Hell, I could write entire side stories about The Emerald Dragons, Orin and Tebryn, Zane and other side characters. I have actually got MORE lore in notes then I could ever get into the actual main story.   
> Would any of my recurring readers be interested in that eventually?
> 
> Anyway! This footnote is getting a little wordy (woops). A quick thanks to all my proofers this year, my partners, my friends on discord who encourage me and my returning readers! (Lookin at you Jack!) Let's hope 2021 isn't as bad as 2020! And maybe next year I can write more then 6 chapters!   
> \- Fae


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